All Hail Shadow
by Radman
Summary: In a twisted future of gloom and despair, tyranny reigns supreme. But one hedgehog refuses to be dominated... and pays the price. How long can he hide from tyranny? Will things ever be put right? Who knows? Bow your heads low, all hail Shadow!
1. The Watchers

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**Chapter 1: The Watchers**

The distant screams were quickly deafened by his fear. His heart bled with sympathy, and he flinched as another desperate yell rang out to his far left. It was too late to help her, and even if it had not been, there was nowhere to hide now. Dozens of "enemy spies" had been discovered recently and all had been dealt with in the typical fashion... Forcing himself to wrench his thoughts from the chilling shrieks, the lone figure continued his journey in silence, as if nothing had happened.

The street was littered in stray, torn pieces of paper which fluttered in the light wind. In the gutters ran a murky liquid which may have been water... best not to find out though. All around, buildings and homes lay in disrepair, some with makeshift solutions here and there. For years it had been like this. Ever since the great war, times had been hard. Of late, he could hardly remember a time hen his stomach did not growl in dissatisfaction.

Every day, more young men were forcibly drafted into the service, never to return. Every day, the mournful cries of sobbing mothers could be heard as their sons were dragged away. They were told that it was for the war effort, that it was a great honor to be selected to serve. Of course, no-one dared to object to the draft, or the arrests. To do so would bring the Watchers' wrath down on you as well. The police were known for their brutality.

The trees lining the road lay bare, as they had for some time now... It had been long indeed since a beam of light had penetrated through the thick smog. Rain was equally scarce. With the combination of these two shortages, the crops had suffered. Food was in short supply. Just two days prior, rations had been cut again. Already, the strains on the general population were apparent.

To add insult to injury, the general cost of goods and services had just sky rocketed... that is, if you were buying. It always seemed that if you were buying, prices were steep; selling, and they were suddenly lower than hell's basement. But the worst part was not the hunger, or economic crisis, it was the feeling of always being watched.

His spies were everywhere, anyone might be a Watcher in disguise, you had no idea who to trust, so you trusted no-one. The police were the unquestioned ultimate authorities... their word was the law. Because of this, many police officers acted as if they were above the law themselves, taking what they pleased... When a woman was arrested, it was not uncommon for her to be raped by the police beforehand, and everyone knew it, though they said nothing.

They were the judge, the jury, the lawyers, and the executioner too. Sometimes, "criminals" were executed without trial, by simply shooting them in the head when their dissension was discovered. For years, Sonic the Hedgehog had secretly despised the Watchers, the Regime, everything about the world he saw around him. Over time, he had stored up a secret stash of things from the old order of the world... pieces of the past.

He had a photograph of a willow tree draped in the summer sun, but its edges were wearing, and its colors were fading. He had a long wooden object which was thicker at one end than at the other. He did not know either what it was for, or what it was called, but he did know that he had not seen one since the takeover of the Regime. He had an old, tattered piece of cloth which seemed vaguely familiar, but he could not place his finger on what it was. Whatever it was, it seemed sacred and significant for some unknown reason. It was a rectangular piece of fabric that was adorned in fading white and red stripes, and the rims were splaying at an astonishing rate. In one of the corners of the fabric, a royal blue patch shone in sharp contrast to the crimson stripes, and the azure rectangle seemed to be dotted in what appeared to be stars, although he wasn't sure exactly.

He seemed to remember seeing it when he was a child... but any memories of the past were dim at best. He had a worn old coin, which had long lost its luster, and whose words were not even decipherable. It was a dull brown, although it was beginning to corrode into a poison green... a tell-tale sign of copper. When he first found it years ago, he had taken a similar coin out of his pocket to compare the two. On the older coin, there appeared to be the vague portrait of a man, with a barely visible beard. After rubbing some of the dirt off, and cleaning it using his own spit, at the top of the old coin were visible the words: _"In God we trust"_. In sharp contrast, the new, shining coin was marked with very different words: _"We are watching you"._

On the back of the old coin it said something about "United" but the rest was scratched off. Current coins had no date, and they were not marked by any country name. Generally, normal people thought nothing of it. He had been pondering why he never heard any international news, now it was only local occurrences, with no knowledge of the outside world. Of course, he was far from a normal person. He utterly despised it when he would attend a social gathering (all social gatherings that were not under the direct supervision of the Watchers were strictly illegal), and everyone present would enthusiastically rant about the Regime, and how loyal and devout they were. Then they would ask him what patriotic thing he had done that week. He would invent some untrue event which always seemed to satisfy them; he wondered if they truly listened to what he said.

Alcohol was forbidden, and had replaced drugs as the most profitable criminal revenue ever. But it was not safe to buy... the Watchers had "sting operations" in every field of crime, fake rebels looking to draw in real rebels and arrest them, fake arsonists looking to draw in real arsonists and arrest them, fake prostitutes looking to draw in real Johns and arrest them, the list went on and on.

Sometimes the police brutalized people who were not even enemies of the Regime, when things got too peaceful, and people weren't afraid any more. They would pick a random person and arrest them under ludicrous allegations, and the poor soul would never be seen again. To Sonic's disgust, he seemed to remember supporting the takeover of the Regime in the beginning... he had never imagined how things would be.

What had been considered acceptable, even normal behavior before the Revolution was now illegal activity, acting in a certain general way was illegal! For example, it was illegal for a person to be generally disrespectful to the police and other authorities under penalty of death! It was now illegal for a woman to "have about her, an independent air which suggests that she intends to exceed and dominate the male colleagues around her, or to put herself equally or above a man in any way."

Since this proclamation, it was seldom one found a strong, fearless girl who was ready to go and conquer the world; they had been so commonplace before. There were four kinds of people in general now... and all of them he hated, just some not as much as the others.

First there was what he called the _believers_. Believers accepted anything the Regime told them as absolute truth, they were like sheep being led to the slaughter. They were simple, stupid people with wide, blunt faces, and dull eyes. Their meaty and unskilled hands served the Regime without question, they were utterly disgusting.

Next there were the _snakes_. Snakes were cunning and shrewd, careful not to say anything that might bring the wrath of the Watchers down on them. They at least pretended to love the Regime, and he got the feeling that some of them actually did love it. Snakes would do anything to put themselves under less suspicion, they had nothing but self preservation in mind. They would turn in traitors to the Regime without a second thought if it would put them in good graces with the police. They were wormy little men, with bony noses, and tightly drawn lips. Their cold, grey eyes would dart about, always watching. He despised them perhaps the most.

Thirdly there were the _ignorants_. Ignorants were generally uninformed, and just as stupid, if not more, than the believers. They were superstitious, but hard to convince of anything. For this reason, they were the largest target of the Watchers and the police, they were completely unknowing about the evil of the Regime, but they were also impossible to train, for this reason it was necessary to exterminate them in mass. Sonic pitied them, but in his heart he also hated them because they stood by as their own kind was slaughtered, marching ever onward.

Finally, there were the _dead men_. Dead men were rebels, thieves, "enemies of the state", and others who the Regime despised and hunted. Their days were numbered and they knew it, and if they were not plotting impossible schemes to overthrow the totalitarianism, or running from the law, they were "consuming their last meals" so to speak. They figured that since they were already going to die anyways, they might as well murder one more person, rape this girl, and then blow their own brains out in a final act of rebellion... Suicide was strictly forbidden, although obviously, no penalty could be enacted against the criminals... which made it rather pointless.

Not too long ago, one never heard such a word as "totalitarianism", or at least not outside of a history class. Back before the Regime's takeover, he had not understood the concept very well, and was not interested in it. Now he had a clear knowledge of what it was: the Regime ruled with an iron fist, its power was absolute, and any and all objections were crushed with extreme prejudice.

Sonic felt as though he were frozen inside, he had endured day after day of dutifully marching forward, going about his own business, watching silently as the victims of the Watchers were dragged away screaming, and he never did anything. He despised the police more than he had ever remembered hating anything else in his entire life; it was not a lack of contempt for what they were doing that caused him to turn and look away when the arrests occurred. It was fear.

Whenever it was quiet, he would tell himself that he could not stand it any longer, that the next time it happened, he would speak up, would help the innocent victims of the Regime's cruelty. When his opportunity finally arose, he found himself considerably less bold. Afterwards, his heart would ache, and he would wish that he could have the courage to stand up for what he believed in next time. The cycle only repeated itself.

Ever since the government had seized command of industry, the sky had been grey, it had been the color of stone for so long, he had forgotten what color it had been before. In his childhood, he seemed to vaguely recollect a color up there, but according to the Regime it had always been grey, always would be grey... There was no such thing as stars, children were "taught" in school now, it was a myth comprised by superstitious people who also believed in unicorns and fairies.

Sonic usually had trouble contradicting anything the Regime said outright, but this time, he clearly remembered stars. He remembered one particular June night, where the sky (what color was it again?) was lit with thousands of peeping lights. He had no idea why the Regime refused to admit their existence, but the only thing he could think of is that they didn't want people to think that there was anything better out there... that their situation could ever be improved.

Amazingly, no matter how ridiculous and illogical their claims were: that there had never been a natural disaster in Station Square, that there was no land beyond the sea, the _believers_ took it without protest, and lived by it. Whenever they had an "education session", Sonic only nodded his head quietly and pretended to agree. They hadn't found him yet... but this thought brought little comfort to him. He had never heard of anyone who had escaped the Regime's wrath.

As he settled his head on his pillow, he looked up through the hole in his roof (which was covered with a piece of aluminum when it rained), to look at the night sky. There was never much to see, smog, darkness, and the occasional red glare of a helicopter light. But something inside him compelled him to continue to return here, continue searching the sky... to catch a glimpse of a star.

_'They can't have covered them entirely...'_ he rationalized. He studied the heavens in concentration, willing the twinkling light to appear, almost coaxing it with his encouraging thoughts. A howling wind tore on the shingles, rattling them in a noisy display of power. The dim, pale light of the moon illuminated a circular spot in the gloom; there was still light in the world.

_'The smoke hasn't covered up the sun or moon completely yet... there may still be hope!'_ he told himself. He smiled slightly, continuing to stare into the sky. And just before his eyes began to slowly slide closed, he could have sworn that he saw a dim shimmer in the sky... but it faded the next second, and there was nothing.

* * * * *

He awoke to the usual sound... his alarm clock ringing noisily. He rolled over on his stomach, growling and trying to go back to sleep. When he refused to get out of bed, the clock made a whirring sound, and then emitted a high pitched squeal, something like the sound of scraping fingernails on a blackboard. The blue hedgehog lurched up and out of bed, stumbling onto the floor and groaning in pain. The old floorboards underneath him creaked in agony at bearing his whole weight in one concentrated area.

Rubbing his back and muttering curse words, he slowly rose to his full height, and hobbled off to the bathroom. Using an old fashioned tooth-brush he had smuggled out of an abandoned dentist's office, he began to brush his teeth as best as he knew how, without toothpaste. When he had finished, he walked out to the main room, a slight grin present on his aged features.

He walked with a slight limp, as if he had strained his legs greatly in his younger days. His body appeared weak, possibly even feeble, but there was a glaring fire in his emerald eyes that suggested that he was far from dead. A rebellious spark, a hatred of injustice was all that kept him going. Moving rather slowly, he made his way over to the simple wooden pantry, rummaging through it for his breakfast. Selecting a bland looking little brown bag, he pulled it out of the cabinet. Pouring the contents into a chipped and cracked bowl, he grimaced in dissatisfaction at the mere sight of the stuff. It was better than nothing, he supposed, and sadly, it was some of the better food.

Mush, grits, oatmeal... it was one of the many bland staples of the local area. It had been long since anyone had added brown sugar to the food. Dutifully adding the water from his perpetually dripping sink, he sat the bowl out to allow the oats to soak up the water. Cracking his back and groaning, he trekked over to his front door. Peering through the hole he had chiseled in the door (peep holes were strictly illegal), he saw no-one and deemed it safe to go get the morning paper.

He knew very well that the paper was entirely a fabrication by the Regime, and he didn't believe a word in the thing, but he knew that he simply had to have something to read. In his younger days, his time was occupied with adventuring and sight-seeing. There was no place for adventurers now, and no sights worth seeing any more. He had to immerse himself in another world from time to time to keep his sanity, and the only way to do that was by reading.

He had managed to hide a copy of a book that had been printed before the takeover of the Regime. Uncensored, it took a bold stand against oppression. If he were ever caught with it, he would surely be killed. He had read it cover to cover hundreds of times, it was the only interesting thing to read any more. The papers were filled with Regime rubbish, the books were written by computers, and everything else was illegal and painfully hard to come by. He would have to squander extra pennies for another seven months to get enough money to buy another banned book.

The title of the book was "1984", which was strange considering that the book was still sold after that date. From what Sonic had read, the author had originally written it in 1948, and his copy was printed in 1997, twelve years before the Regime takeover. It had been twenty years since the King had assumed control. It was forbidden to speak the King's name (if one knew what it was), or to even speak of him without the most reverent and admiring tone of voice. Therefore, he was not spoken of much.

After Sonic had forced down his breakfast, he hobbled outside to go to work for the Regime, like he always did. In some ways he was disgusted with himself that he could live with himself knowing that he worked in service of the very monster he had once sworn to destroy... but that had been years ago.

He rationalized that one had to make a living somehow, and that the best way to escape some of the suspicion of the Watchers was to serve the Regime outright yourself. It was unavoidable, and it was despicable. There was no passion in his work, only long hours of labor with no visible progress. Over the years, as his physical condition had worsened and he had gained more trust among the Regime, he had moved from a position of hard labor to a management slot. He oversaw the distribution of shoes and winter caps to the local neighborhood. Despite his best efforts, he saw far too many children wandering the streets barefoot, some next to naked.

Suddenly, he stopped walking. Standing directly in front of him and glaring at him ominously were two police agents, their sunglasses concealing their eyes, and headsets plugged into their ears. He remained motionless, knowing that if he was under suspicion, to run was as good as a confession, and to approach them would be considered threatening. For this reason, he froze. Apparently, they were only eyeing him, as the next moment they turned around and went about their business. Wiping a droplet of sweat of his brow, the azure hero sighed, and continued his journey.

Yesterday's tearing wind had worn down to a gentle breeze, but it was also a little colder. The cruel winter was approaching, bad times were coming. The next moment, his trip was interrupted by shouts erupting from the agents, causing Sonic to flinch and close his eyes, preparing to be apprehended... But no hard, cold hands grasped him. He was still standing untouched. Opening his eyes, he saw the second agent dash down the side alley to his right, and heard a girl scream, undoubtedly as the first agent tackled her.

His hands became clammy, and a massive lump planted itself in his throat. A droplet of sweat rolled down his temple as indecision ravaged his emotions. Every time an arrest occurred, he was in conflict. Surely he could not stand here and do nothing, walk on as if nothing were happening! No, he could not tolerate this injustice any longer. Action must be taken!

"Dammit, I don't care anymore if I'm arrested. I can't take it any more!" he screamed as he lost all self control. His pupils shrank to the size of pin-pricks, and the blood boiled in his veins. Suddenly possessing a new youth, he surged down the alley at incredible speed to come onto the scene of the two agents beating an innocent girl. One of them turned to him and snarled, hoping to scare him off.

"You have no business being here. Move along." the arrogant agent growled, baring his teeth.

"I'm making it my business you bastards. I'll not stand by and watch this happen any longer." came his fiery reply. At this, the other agent looked up from his violence to gawk at him. They were not used to being challenged.

"You're as good as dead now," the first one sneered, taunting him.

"Yeah? Well at least I'll die a hero instead of a sniveling little bitch like you!" he snarled, leaping forward to tackle the agent before he could pull his gun out. The other agent responded, pouncing on him, as the girl backed away, into a corner to fearfully watch.

The blue hedgehog rolled out of the way of a kick from one of the agents, and spun around to trip the other. Rolling to his feet, he tackled the agent that was still standing, who yelped and pleaded to his partner,

"Call for backup, he's too strong!" before he was taken to the ground as well.

"No way! I'm not some cowardly pussy, we can take 'im!" he growled, before bounded forward to land upon Sonic, knocking the breath out of him. At this point, both of them were piled atop him, grunting as they pressed to try to crush him.

"What now hero?" the more cocky of the two snarled, before the blue hedgehog smirked, and his youth almost seemed to have completely returned.

"Burn in hell you sick bastards!" he replied as he thrust his hand into the first agent's coat, quickly retrieving his pistol.

"Oh no you don't!" the agent growled as he pinned the hero's hand to the ground, trying to squeeze the gun out of his grip. He struggled against their weight, but the force was too great. Glancing quickly about to find anything to give him the advantage, he spied a rusty crowbar nestled under a dumpster about a foot from his head.

Reaching up to grasp it, he treasured the moment his enemies' eyes were wide with realization before he plunged the steel bar into the first one's abdomen, earning grunts of pain and a sudden flood of crimson. The agent convulsed in pain, baring his teeth and growling. When the iron grip on his hand softened with his enemy's weakening life-force, he raised the pistol to the second one's head, his eyes pleading for his life. The pistol slipped about in his blood and sweat drenched fingers, and the dead agent was beginning to weigh on him heavily. Roughly pointing the barrel directly at the side of his opponent's head, he squeezed the trigger. A deafening bang resounded; several nearby birds cawed and flapped hurriedly away. His lifeless enemies sagged atop him, their blood drizzling onto him.

Straining and pushing, he heaved the corpses off himself, and sat up with a wince. Suddenly realizing that the shot would have been heard, he quickly glanced about, and found the girl who he had rescued. She was nestled pitifully in a muddy little rut behind a stinking dumpster, shivering and watching him, eyes wide with fear. He began to slowly approach her, but she retreated backwards, her back to the wall.

"It's okay, I won't hurt you," he tried to say in a soothing voice, but he found that he was trembling from the adrenaline rush, and his voice was cracking.

"Why... why did you help me?" she asked, still fearful, but beginning to eye him with consideration.

"That's not important right now. They'll be after us in a moment, we have to hide somewhere!" he exclaimed, as a siren sounded in the distance.

"I know a safe place that we can stay low." she cried, crawling out of the mud and standing to her full height.

"Lead the way, princess." And with that, the pair rushed off, to flee the sound of the police coming after them. But throughout the whole ordeal, they had been watched...

* * * * *

The minister of justice wrung his hands nervously as he forced down another swallow of pleasantly cool water. Within the beige elevator, soft and calming music whispered, but he was far from relaxed. He was not claustrophobic in the least, but his nerves were so tight, that he nearly jumped out of his skin when the elevator softly dinged to indicate that he had reached his desired floor.

He scowled at the button console to the right of the door. He had gotten here much too quickly! He still needed some time to prepare himself... nervousness was a sign of guilt. But the King loathed tardiness, so he had best be punctual in his arrivals. Releasing a long sigh and smoothing his hair back, he thrust such thoughts from his mind and opened the door. With a click, it hissed open, and he stepped from the bright, compact little elevator into a massive, incredibly dark room.

His eyes spun with psychedelic colors, but after a moment or two, his eyes had adjusted a bit. He still was not able to see clearly, but he could make out some objects. For example, he could clearly see the dimly lit chandelier suspended about a dozen feet above his head. On the far right hand side of the room, monolithic bookcases towered up, probably a good fifty feet tall. He absently wondered how anyone could reach the books on the top shelf, since there were no ladders.

At the far end of the room were a series of enormous and finely crafted stain glass windows, but if you had never seen them before, you wouldn't know that, because at the moment, they were obscured with thick, heavy, dark violet curtains. The back of a massive chair cast a long shadow from the tiny slivers of light that managed to penetrate the curtains, and an air of authority, one of unquestionable dominion floated about the whole place. He dared not speak until he was spoken to.

Suddenly, a pair of scarlet lights appeared in the darkness, their eerie reflective light reminiscent of the dull flickering of candles. The lights darted to him, glaring at him with an uncanny intensity. He knew very well what they were. They were _his_ eyes. He shivered slightly under their gaze before he stopped himself, and timidly, yet humbly advanced towards the pair of shining eyes. Coming down on one knee, he awaited further instructions in silence. He closed his eyes, half expecting to meet his end right there. The King didn't just maintain his rule with efficient cruelty, but also with fearful battle skills.

"What has gone wrong now?" the dark voice rang, a hint of sarcastic venom bubbling in its' tone.

"My most exalted lordship, allow me to explain. Two police agents were killed while apprehending a certain dissident today on the west side of town. We think she had help."

The eyes drilled through him, but the creature who owned them did not stir, not even the sound of a breath arose from his throne.

"Please, my lord, try to understand, how was I to know she would have help?" he pitifully pleaded, knowing that his life could very well be on the line. The dark figure rose from his seat, standing to his full height, and slowly plodding over to stand above the minister, his imperious shadow blocking out all sunlight.

"It is your duty to account for all possible eventualities... and you have failed to do so," the King sneered, a devilish grin managing its' way onto his features.

"My lord, next time-" the minister began, groveling before his master.

"There will be no next time, I do not tolerate failure. Guards!" the King growled, before turning to reseat himself on his giant throne.

"Please my lord, give me another chance to earn your trust!" the minister pleaded, but to no avail.

"Silence! Take your punishment like a man, not a sniveling grandmother! Guards, take him to his fate, he is no longer of any use to me." the King said with a bored wave of his hand. Immediately doing as they were told, his royal guards gripped the "traitor" and began to drag him away.

"I know who you are! I know! You think I don't know anything, but you haven't brainwashed me yet! We used to be friends, I used to know you." the minister pleaded as he surged forward out of the guards grasp, to tremble on the floor before the King.

The King rose out of his throne, and stepped down to stand directly in front of the minister. His eyes burned with a light to match the sun, illuminating his dark features. His gruff, masculine voice rang out in the darkness like the tolling of an iron bell, and the guard shook in fear at the mere sound of his anger.

"I am King Shadow. None may defy me and live. I ordered you to be silent; prepare to die." The King drew back his fist, and sent it crashing down on the fat minister's head, cracking his neck in a single blow. His form slowly slumped over, and stopped twitching. It did not move again.

"Well that was violent..." one of the guards whispered to another when he thought the King wasn't listening.

"What was that?" the King demanded in a challenging tone.

"Um... ah- I said... all hail Shadow!" the guard stuttered, the piercing rubies now turned on him.

"Er, yeah, I heard 'im, that's exactly what we was sayin'. All hail Shadow, your lordliness."

"That's what I thought you said. You would do well to remember it. Bring me the new minister of justice. We have some rats to trap."


	2. The Dead Men

**Chapter 2: The Dead Men**

Sleep would not come to Sonic the Hedgehog. Now that his initial adrenaline rush had long worn off, the realization that he had violently kill not just one... but two people was beginning to sink in. Wolves howled ominously in the distance, and the train-tracks rattled noisily underneath their drafty boxcar. But none of these were what troubled the once world renowned hero... He was thinking about his life, how it had begun, what was happening now, and presumably, how it would end.

When Sonic was young, he had been relatively sheltered from the evils of the world, he had been raised by good, caring parents... both of whom tragically died when he was twelve. Refusing to be mistreated by the horrible nuns who ran the orphanage, he ran away to live on the streets. Over the course of the next several years, he became tough. He learned to survive, to live by fighting for his existence. He was a natural born rebel, who hated society.

He sheltered the misfit Tails, who had been relentlessly teased, as his own brother. Becoming furiously protective of him, he remembered getting in a good number of fights defending that fox. But when he had seen a deranged scientist kidnap some of his friends... he immediately sprung into action. Using his natural talent for running, he ousted the evil Robotnik time and time again, until that became his new life.

Over time, he earned fame and recognition, eventually becoming somewhat of a celebrity. Living for the moment, he expended vast quantities of energy seeking thrills, and now he was paying the price for it. He remembered clearly the day things had all gone wrong... and the darkness fell.

It had seemed no different from any other day at first... although he still could not recall exactly what color it was, he knew the sky wasn't grey that day. At least not at the beginning. Then the sky rained fire, and at first, the heavens were clad in a claret light. One of the doctor's massive weapons loomed on the horizon casting a darkness over the world. But... he could not recall exactly what happened next. It all happened so fast, so suddenly. Soon, the Regime had assumed control... when he was no more than nineteen years old. When an icy pain tore down his back, he was reminded of the loathsome fact... he would soon be forty.

He certainly felt like an old man... but there was something about this girl... something that made him feel like he was young again, fighting injustice by with his friends, like all those years ago, when the world was right. The boxcar jolted, throwing him slightly into the air, and awaking him from his daydreaming. Rubbing his forehead and sighing deeply, he turned to glance at his female companion. He still didn't even know her name.

It was ironic, he had never met her before in his life and because his stifled emotions exploded into righteous fury, he saved her. Without knowing her, he had killed for her, risked his own life. He knew so little about her, at this point she represented an ideal, she was not a person but rather freedom. He had fought and saved liberty, even if it was only for one person.

With a tinge of pessimism he pondered his fate. He had committed social suicide when he had confronted the police agents, surely he could never return to Station Square. Indeed, they hunted him even now, as the phantom sirens ringing in the distance reminded him. What would become of him? He was entirely unsure. With his mind dwelling on these thoughts, he slowly drifted to a fitful sleep within the cold, bumpy train.

* * * * *

"Quickly, get up, they're searching the train!" she whispered in his ear as she roughly shook him in an effort to rouse him from his slumber.

"Not now... five more minutes..." he mumbled before rolling over. The girl growled in frustration, now franticly shaking him.

"In five minutes we'll be dead! GET UP!" She yelled at him. Startled, he jolted up, cracked his back, and groaned. Glaring at her irritably, he was about to inquire why she was so rude as to wake him up when she shushed him. "Quickly, gather your things. We have to get off this train, now!" She commanded.

Obeying without question, he snatched up the knapsack of possessions he had gathered from his house before they had left town, and slung it on his back. She stalked over to the door, prying it open to reveal a crack of stunningly bright sunlight. Sonic glanced at her quizzically before hobbling over to stand by the door with her. He stood directly behind her, peering through the hole over her shoulder.

While she was glancing about to see if any guards roamed the immediate area, she could feel his hot breath on her neck, it was somewhat discomforting. But she ignored it, and continued to keep an eye out.

"Alright, on my mark, we make a break for it. Ready... 3... 2... 1- Hold it, there's a guard." She breathed, her fists clenching in preparation. She continued to peer out the crack in the doorway, and Sonic stared at the soldier, willing him to move on. As if sensing his thoughts, the guard stopped and examined his boxcar, eyeing it suspiciously. After inspecting it thoroughly, he shrugged, turned and took a long gulp from what appeared to be a beer bottle.

"But I thought alcohol was illegal!" Sonic said in disbelief, staring at the poisonous beverage. He had never gotten to taste it, the Regime had taken over before he had come of age.

"Soldiers and upper officials can get it... Just not us." She snarled, eyeing the soldier with contempt. In a way, Sonic pitied her. She looked no older than twenty or so, she couldn't possibly have any memories of a time before this horrible nightmare... it was all she knew. Soon enough, the guard had moved on, and once again, they were preparing to make a break for the woods on the edge of the train tracks.

"Alright, ready... go!" she yelled, throwing the doors open and bolting out the entrance. Sonic's joints and muscles were quite aged, and he found it somewhat difficult to match her pace. Once the pair had dashed about thirty feet from the rusty boxcar, they slid onto their bellies and into the high grass to listen. At first, Sonic couldn't help but pant loudly. He was still rather strong for his age, but he couldn't handle sudden bursts of exertion well. If Knuckles were here now, he would undoubtedly be chuckling in amusement.

Parting the grass before their eyes like tigers stalking their prey, the rebellious couple parted the grass in front of their faces to glare at the guard patrols that were marching up and down the sides of the train. Boxcar by boxcar the soldiers went, throwing the doors roughly open and storming in as if they expected to find murderers and assassins within them. When his breathing had settled, and he caught up with his heart rate, he choked out an encouraging remark.

"You're pretty damn fast... I don't think they saw us." he gasped, his voice cracking from his lack of air. She shushed him again and he narrowed his eyes in irritation. He was at least twenty years her senior, and her savior no less, and she had the gall to command his silence twice! When he realized that she was no longer by his side, he glanced backwards to see her camouflaged, baggy pants retreating into the brush.

Rolling his eyes and sighing, he turned and followed her, but not before glancing nervously back one last time to make sure they weren't being watched... She was the epitome of agility, deftly swooping past and gliding around any hindrances which marked her path. In contrast, nearly every branch she pushed out of her way snapped back to slash his cheeks, a repeated agony he found both enraging and annoying. She did not utter a word, only silently, stealthily, and rapidly making her intrusion into the dense foliage.

Minutes became hours. Night soon fell in the forest, and yet his companion only wordlessly continued, and inadvertently swatted him in the face with more switches (although he was beginning to wonder if it was intentional). His lack of sleep from the night before began to kick in, he was feeling utterly exhausted. Glancing around nervously, he noticed that the forest surrounding him was very threatening looking, and he dared not wonder what sort of creatures might abide in it.

The trunks of mighty oak tress towered above him like behemoths, and their dark green spreads blocked out nearly all light. The shining eyes of the owls perched within their branches gave the trees a life of their own, they appeared to be glaring down at him! At their bases he could feel a thick layer of moss, something he had not encountered in quite some time (moss does not grow in polluted areas). Below the titanic oaks were the maples and willows, their thinner branches interlaced and cast against distant red glows, giving them the appearance of obsidian spider-webs. Although it was obscure, through the tree cover, he could clearly see a brightly shining light which he presumed was the moon. But it was strange, he never remembered the moon being that big, or that bright. Come to think of it, he never remembered the sun even shining that clearly.

"There's a clearing up ahead. We're almost there." his loosely clad companion announced with a hint of an optimistic happiness, but also a faint expectation to her voice. To Sonic, the silence of the wood seemed sacred, and he decided not to break it by replying. Pushing through one last bunch of low branches and receiving on final bombardment to his face, Sonic pushed through, into the meadow.

The flat was cast in the brilliant silvery light of the full moon, and the tips of the trees shimmered. Behind him, the hooting of owls was now distant. Arranged on the ground in intricate patterns were hundreds, possibly thousands of species of wildflowers of every imaginable shape and color. They were not chaotic, theirs was a pattern that only nature in its divine wisdom could piece together, they were beautiful in their disorderliness.

_'After all...'_ he pondered while licking his dry lips,_ they are free to grow wherever they wish, free from being under the harsh, dominating command of a human. Their freedom... their very wildness is their beauty...' _Taking in a deep breath of the field, he savored its scent. The aroma of the flowers was so strong he could almost touch it, and yet so soft, like floating on a cloud. And then, he looked up at the sky.

He froze in place, his heart beating at an impossibly high rate, his mouth moved up and down, but no words escaped his lips; his throat had gone dry. Wringing his hands together slightly, he finally managed to speak a single word, one joyous syllable.

"Stars!" he exclaimed in delight, his eyes bright in joy. Surely enough, there in the sky with the moon, were millions upon millions of tiny, white points of light, peeping out from among the darkness. He stared up at them in shock, for a moment hardly believing that there could be so many, and the next bubbling in ecstasy. "They're so beautiful..." he whispered as he wiped a tear from his eye.

It had been fifteen years since he had seen a star for longer than a second, where he could be absolutely sure without a doubt that they were real. And now, once again he was sure. For the moment, optimism flooded him. Suddenly, he was a rather small and insignificant part of the great big universe, a universe in which good would eventually prevail, and the dragon of tyranny cast down into the depths of the lake of fire... where it belonged. His bravado swelled, and he felt as if he could take on the entire Regime himself... a one man army.

His female companion knelt down and placed a small, cylindrical package onto the ground, before hopping back up and stepping back a few feet. Sonic glanced at the object in mild interest before it hissed, popped, and emitted a streak of blood red smoke in the sky. The ruby fumes were whisked to the east by the chilling winds, floating away and out of sight. Sonic looked at her questioningly, but she only stared back at him, her expression careful.

The next moment, they were joined in the clearing by several other figures, who were all carrying weapons. At first, the azure hedgehog prepared to fight them, but when he realized that the girl was conferring with one of them, he deduced that they must be friends... and enemies of the Regime to top it off.

She instructed him to follow them out of the clearing and to do exactly as they said. Stealing one last glance at the tapestry in the heavens, he followed the rebels into the darkness, where the light which he was seeking lay. All was quiet, except for the winds, which continued carrying the scarlet smoke off, into the distance.

* * * * *

Sonic was entirely disoriented, to the point that his head was spinning. At one point since his arrival, one of the soldiers had explained that the girl that he had saved (and subsequently followed here) was named Julie. He also learned exactly who this group of rebels was and who their leader was. One of the more friendly individuals had been nice enough to give him a "tour".

"We don't exactly have an army here, but we've got a real tight knit operation you see. We're like family 'ere." The striped mongoose had replied.

Camerov was an interesting individual, he was certainly more than he appeared. He was very simple looking, with a dark brown coat of fur, and a tan underbelly, with two white stripes running along his back, giving him the appearance of a brown skunk. He talked nearly non-stop, although he was gracious enough to listen to questions (and more than happy to answer them), and he tended to whisk his tail back and forth while talking, a habit Sonic found strangely distracting.

"So why are you taking me in?" Sonic asked, a bit confused as to why they were simply welcoming him with outstretched arms. It seemed now that no-one was to be trusted, much less trusted without you knowing a thing about them. "I mean, aren't you going to run some background checks, ask some questions, something?"

"Oh, well, we have a policy around 'ere, and it goes like this: a friend of my friend is my friend. You see, you 'elped Julie out, so you're a part of the family." he said with a bright grin. Was this guy for real, Sonic remembered wondering.

"Well, it seems I have no alternatives... so if I'm going to stick around for awhile, I might as well know who your leaders are. Would you be so kind as to point them out?" Sonic asked, a tinge of uncertainty to his voice.

"Sure thing! First in command is Commander Stephen, ee's over there. See 'im?" Camerov said with a certain reverence.

"I don't- wait, you mean the elderly ferret?" Sonic asked incredulously. Ferrets and weasels had a bad reputation for being crooks... and he was hesitant to trust them.

"I most certainly do." Camerov replied with a smug grin. Stephen was standing, speaking to a couple of officers, and occasionally pulling aside a passing soldier and scolding them or praising them. He was probably a good ten years older than Sonic, but he carried himself with a certain youth that suggested he was fulfilling his life aspirations... that he enjoyed his work.

"You will 'ave the pleasure of meeting 'im later. For the moment, I must direct your attention to his second in command, Commander Nathan... here, I'll take you to meet 'im." Before he could object, Sonic found his arm being tugged on by the impossibly strong mongoose, who was pushing his way through the crowd of soldiers.

The next moment, he was thrust in front of a massive black man, with wide sloping shoulders, and thick powerful arms. His intelligent eyes flicked to Sonic, and then to Camerov.

"Cammy, what's the meaning of this?" the giant man boomed in his huge bass voice. Sonic was utterly terrified, and for a second, he thought the ground was going to shake with the force of Nathan's exclamation.

"Don't mind 'im Sonic, he's just a big teddy bear once you get to know 'im. Well, now that I think about it, teddy bears can't rip your 'ead off, now can they..." he trailed off, Sonic shifted nervously, the towering man was now staring down at him. "Commander Nathan, this 'ere's the new recruit, Sonic the 'Edgehog, and they say 'ee can run like 'ell."

The massive man bent down, meeting Sonic's eye with his own. He examined him for a moment, and then he spoke.

"Is this true Sonic? Are you a world class runner?" he echoed, his breath wafting in Sonic's face. Sonic was expecting it to smell terrible, but in actuality it smelled like pork... not all that distasteful of a smell for someone who had survived on oatmeal for the last five years...

"Yes sir, I am. Pleased to meet you... Commander Nathan." Sonic gulped, shakily offering his hand. Nathan eyed it a moment, as if checking it for diseases, and then gruffly grabbed it, and vigorously shook it.

"I like you boy. Stick with me, and you'll do okay." Nathan exclaimed, his booming, deep laughter resounding like a tolling bell. Sonic was shocked... he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen a human with skin that dark. It was something he intended to ask about.

Later, when he was alone in his quarters, he was staring at the ceiling and pondering the events of the last several days. In his hands he had a guidebook they had given him, telling him 'it would explain everything'. While he highly doubted that it would explain everything, he was interested to see what it had nonetheless. Ironically, for the first time in a long time, Sonic found that he did not have the will to read.

* * * * *

The lone figure coughed as he gripped the rocky cliff, he could feel his grip loosening, preparing to send him crashing to his death on the spires far below, to gore him like rocky swords. Their blades of stone emerged from the tepid waters far below, the mild waves splashing against their sides.

Forcing himself to wrench his eyes from certain death hundreds of feet below him, he flexed his arms, hauling himself up the slab another couple inches. But he was far from his goal. Overhead, flocks of seagulls whirls in wide arcs, cawing madly, as if either cheering him on, or calling for his plummet. Clearing his mind, he breathed heavily, relaxing for a second to regain his strength. Dozens of drops of sweat had formed on his brow, and were beginning to drizzle into his eyes. Blinking them away in frustration, he continued his upward climb.

Suddenly, his determination grew tenfold. His eyes flashed with anger, as his thoughts dwelt on what he had lost. His hands gripped the jagged footholds tightly, almost so tight as to give the impression that he could shatter the solid stone with his bare fists. Straining his muscles, he heaved himself higher and higher, his exhaustion mounting. Then, he could see it! The ridge at the top, not fifty feet up from his current position! Finding a new strength within this assurance, Knuckles the Echidna rapidly surmounted, and conquered the remainder of the cliff-side.

He was met at the top by a group of cheering friends, fellow rebels, who had gathered to gape at his impressive performance. After all, it wasn't every day that someone climbed up a thousand foot sheer cliff with no rope. It was quite a risk to have taken, but since that fateful day, the fiery echidna had become obsessed with proving his worth to the rebels.

Toweling his face off and shaking a few hands, he made his way into the compound to refresh himself. The cool of the air conditioner felt heavenly after the exertion of the climb, and the water in the base was always cool and fresh. But Knuckles' thoughts were distant. Today he'd received news that they'd brought in his old friend, Sonic the Hedgehog. They hadn't spoken in years, not since Knuckles had left... and never returned.

He had assumed that after long enough, Sonic would catch on, and follow him. The blue hero always had been a bit slow on the up-take, but six years... He never would have guessed. After his quiet reminiscing was interrupted by the abrupt shouting of an officer outside, Knuckles frowned in realization. Eventually he would have to go and meet him, talk about that day... Might as well make it sooner than later he supposed. Rubbing his temples in irritation, Knuckles began to walk off to find Sonic before he spied a shiny object on the floor.

Bending over to pick it up, he held it in the light an examined it. He was going to simply put the object in his pocket without another thought before his eyes passed over the lettering on it: _We are watching you... _Snarling in disgust, he hurled the penny to the floor and turned distastefully away, before stomping off, leaving the coin back where he had found it.

* * * * *

-

_The Regime's only and ultimate goal is to continue its own existence. Everything that is done is done for a reason. The simple minded, those who are ignorant of the teachings of the Regime will only look and say "It is for my own good". No I tell you, a thousand times no! Every lowly task performed for the Regime is done so for a particular reason._ Sonic read in the book that the rebels had given to him. It was filled with philosophies and histories, labeled as 'everything the Regime doesn't want you to know'. At first, he had been unable to read, but after awhile, boredom had taken over, and he had been unable to resist the urge.

_For example, the suppressing of the female sex in regards to equal rights. It is common knowledge that the primary difference between men and women in regards to psychology is a distinct difference in the way the brain reacts to stimulus. In general, it is found that females react in an emotional way, whereas males tend to act in a logical way. Please note that in my opinion, this is no way makes females inferior in any way to males, they are simply different._ As he read, Sonic nodded his head in agreement. Printed in the book was virtually all the dissident thoughts he'd hidden from the Watchers over the last twenty years. Except now here they were in printed form!

_This "emotional reaction" is very dangerous for the type of system the Regime intends to maintain. After all, logic can be skewed, manipulated, even destroyed, but one can never take away another human being's emotions. A world in which emotions can make a significant difference is a world in which revolution is plausible, threatening the existence of the Regime. Therefore, the influence of the female has been significantly diminished._ Sonic sighed and stared up at the ceiling. He was not hesitant to read any further not because he disagreed with what the book claimed, but rather because it was so frighteningly accurate, like if someone described your nightmare to you when you'd never told them about it. At least for the moment lacking something better to do, he continued on.

The book explained, in slightly different terms, everything he had surmised about society, the different types of people... the place of women, and ethnic minorities in the Regime... the Watchers... but there was one key difference between his previous beliefs and what was contained in the book. Whereas all the cynical observations he'd made over the years amounted to nothing in the end, for each tyranny exposed in the book, it also listed how and why the rebels where going to demolish it. From this book sprung a feeling of almost foolish optimism, that things were bad but _could_ get better.

Interrupting his wonderings, a loud knock sounded on his steel door. Getting slowly up from his bed and cracking his back, he moved over to the doorway, and slid it open. The moment it was open, his mouth nearly hit the floor in shock, his eyes must have been wide as tires.

"Hello Sonic. Its been awhile." Knuckles muttered, before stomping into the room.

"I- I thought you were dead!" Sonic stuttered, still gaping at his friend.

"And what would cause you to think that?" Knuckles said with a chuckle of disbelief.

"Well, with the Watchers and the disappearances... you never know. If you ask them, they will deny the person ever existed." Sonic explained.

"That's true enough I suppose. In any case, I've been here with these guys for the past several years..." Knuckles trailed off.

"Knuckles... you don't mean to tell me that you still haven't got it back?" Sonic questioned, one brow raised in incredulity. Surely Knuckles, the strongest person he'd ever met had found the courage to confront the Regime like he hadn't for all these years.

"No... But I will have the Master Emerald again... soon enough." Knuckles sighed, but Sonic looked slightly angry, as if he couldn't believe this was the same Knuckles he knew six years ago.

"In any case, the Commanders have called a meeting. We're preparing to mount an attack. This'll be the big one." Knuckles said with an air of excitement.

"Too bad I wasn't around to die in any of the 'small ones'. I guess I'll have to settle for a painful death." Sonic chuckled, but Knuckles remained silent.

"Oh, and another thing Sonic. Julie told me to ask you to go and see her. She's waiting for you in the briefing room." Knuckles said with the smallest hint of innuendo, before turning and leaving. Now Sonic was alone with his silence. Deciding to take a quiet moment before he left to meet his new colleagues, he removed his keepsakes from his knapsack, carefully lining them up on his bed, and examining them one at a time.

The collection now felt rather silly, now that he knew things like toothbrushes and comic books still did exist in the world, as long as you lived in the Rebellion complex. Still, the objects had some sentimental value, he had gathered them secretly over the course of twenty years, each had some special meaning now. Nothing was meaningless anymore.

* * * * *

"Admonishing our newcomers will get you nowhere." the elderly ferret said, a devious twinkle in his eye.

"But sir, this hedgehog-" the objector began, before he was interrupted.

"I have a name you know, and I would appreciate it if you would use it." Sonic growled, glancing at his rival.

"This _Sonic_ speaks words of madness!" He finished, looking first at Sonic, and then at the first in command, as if imploring him to cast out the ridiculous notion.

"Impossibility of victory is no reason to shy away from the attempt. This entire organization is built on a hopeless dream." Stephen's wise, yet playful voice rang in the spacious, circular room. Renegades and rebels of all shapes and sizes sat in huge conglomerations, and every eye was fixed either on Sonic, or the esteemed commander at the center of the hall. "Please my friend, elaborate on your plan."

"You have said that we have just received information that the Regime just changed its minister of justice, correct?" Sonic asked, although he already knew the answer. When no answer came, he merely continued his proposal.

"With so little time on the job, the new minister will not have gained the trust, respect, or fear from his men that is vital to the functioning of the Regime army. Now is the optimal time for a strike, while they're disarrayed." Sonic continued, his eyes glowing at a change to fight for freedom once again.

"Indeed Sonic, you have shown auspicious talents of strategy. What do you propose that we then do?" The commander known as Nathan resounded from the other side of the room, causing Sonic to jump in fright before settling back onto the floor, clearing his throat, and continuing.

"Send in strike teams as a diversion on the east side of Station Square. They can easily get in through the insecure sewer system." Sonic said, moving his hands about to demonstrate the manner in which he intended his idea to be executed.

"While they confuse and distract the Regime's army, we can send in the main force to the west, and attack Roujin Fortress. Once we've sabotaged that instillation, we can retreat knowing that we've hit a severe blow to the Regime." Sonic finished, mock bowing as he concluded his presentation. For a moment, the room had a pregnant silence about it, before a single ringing voice interrupted the emptiness.

"Sonic, exactly why is Roujin Fortress of such strategic importance to the Regime?" Nathan boomed, raising one eyebrow in a questioning manner.

"If you had lived in Station Square these past few years, you would surely know... The Regime garrisons one fifth of its standing army for Station Square in that instillation. Countless weapons of terror... missiles, shoot out of it every day, raining down destruction upon enemies of the Regime. From the smokestacks and exhausts, billows of smoke block out the sun and stars for miles around, painting the sky a deathly grey. As long as that fortress stands, Station Square cannot be liberated." Sonic said with complete confidence, his voice rising with his indignation.

"But one more thing that will be of particular interest to Sergeant Major Knuckles..." Sonic trailed off, baiting his audience.

"And what would that be blue boy?" Stephen inquired while rubbing his chin in thought.

"That is where the Regime is keeping the Master Emerald." at this revelation, widespread murmurs erupted from among the congregation, everyone was excitedly discussing the implications of this in some way or another. Some were wondering what the Regime did with the great gem, others were speculating as to what use it would be the Rebellion. One was sitting silently, watching Sonic carefully with dull, empty eyes.

* * * * *

"It won't be long now my friend. Soon, all our efforts will be rewarded." Commander Nathan said uncharacteristically quietly to his superior.

"Indeed, it seems as though the fruits of our labor is about to be harvested. But make no mistake, even when_ he_ is plucked from his throne, the fight still will not be over." Stephen replied.

"Ah yes, your famous saying Commander Stevie... 'Tyranny never sleeps, that's why we never stop fighting it.' How could I forget?" Nathan chuckled, glancing nostalgically at his older friend.

"What of this new Sonic fellow? He seems like a rather well informed chap to me. Quite the sarcastic little bastard, but that's the way I like 'em, with a little fire in their eyes." Stevie retorted, smirking slightly at his companion's reply.

"Hell yeah. That son of a bitch has got a whole damned forest fire in his eyes. Like he wants to take on the world. How long you reckon it'll last?" Nathan inquired sadly, while playing with his dog tags.

"One can never tell. With some, their spunk is gone as soon as they taste any real fighting, others, they never stop fighting till they've breathed their last breath and went to burn in hell." Stevie sighed complacently, before getting up and beginning to walk off. He had not gone far before his communicator rang within his pocket, prompting him to remove it and place it to his ear.

"Hello. No, that won't do. Put the new guy with the main force. I understand; I want to see exactly what he's made of." And with that, the preparations began. Nathan had been watching the conversation in mild interest. Now that it was over, he got up and strode off to get himself something to eat. He found that he was amazingly hungry when he was apprehensive about the future.

Stevie could usually calm any of his doubts with his snide remarks. Today, it seemed that they were impossible to quell. A pang lurked at the bottom of his stomach. It had been said before that he could tell when something bad was going to happen simply by gauging how his stomach felt. Call it strange, but that was one of his many reputations. And at the moment, his gut was telling him that something very bad was going to happen very soon.


	3. The Guardian

**Chapter 3: the Guardian**

He now knew why Nathan's break smelled like pork. There, on his plate, staring up at him and begging to be eaten, was the culprit. Licking his lips in anticipation, he pinched himself to be sure he was awake. His eyes were wide in amazement, and his knuckles were white from his grip on the fork. Like a man who was dying of starvation, he stabbed one of the pink chunks, and popped it into his mouth. Sonic closed his eyes and chewed slowly, savoring the flavor and rolling the meat around in his mouth. Right about now, he was ready to bow down and worship the pig god.

He was being stared at inquisitively, but he paid them no mind, his focus entirely on he food before him. He sampled each dish in turn, taking the time to appreciate each one. Each was like its own, unique piece of heaven, and some were almost unbearable... flavor explosions that made his eyes widen and his stomach loudly demand more.

_'If this is a crime, then shoot me now!'_ he thought before devouring another bite of breakfast burrito. This was one of these 'flavor overloads', with eggs, meat, peppers, and hash-browns. When he took a bite, he could have sworn he heard the hallelujah chorus ringing over him.

He ate like a man twice his size, and even Nathan, who was known for eating like a bear raised an eyebrow at seeing how much food he really was capable of packing away. Eventually, the feeling of being watched got to him, and he began to eat like a normal person while glancing around apologetically. Everyone's smiles told him that it was alright, he had no bad blood to fear here.

Sonic, being the highly observant creature he was, took notice of how each person ate, and logged it away for future reference. Camerov ate slowly, and in great quantities, conversing excitedly with whoever was seated to his right and left. Nathan more or less shoveled food into his gaping jaws, and took long hearty draughts of whatever occupied his cup, whether it be as mild as milk, or as volatile as scalding, black coffee. Stevie ate as if he were a dignified gentleman, although his colorful vocabulary testified otherwise. Sonic absently noted that he was wearing a black, ten-gallon hat today. Julie was eating a healthy amount in a neat fashion, and eyeing him no matter what he did.

He tried not to think about why she was looking at him, because the more he did, the more he got the feeling of being inspected, scrutinized. He felt as if she was determining his worthiness, sizing him up. Finally he turned away from her piercing gaze to glance at Knuckles. He frowned the moment he did. Sonic had always known Knuckles to have a sizable appetite, certainly one to beat his own... But there on his plate were some mere scraps, a fraction of what Sonic was eating. And there was no meat. At first, Sonic thought that Knuckles had already wolfed down his meat, but when he was offered some and refused a moment later, Sonic knew that he'd never had any.

He noticed that his friend was downing several cups of searing hot coffee, presumably to keep his strength up with his meager meal. Sonic wondered if his older friend was sick, but no, Knuckles was highly irritable when he was sick. He was always a little grumpy, but if he were sick, he would have tackled someone for looking at him wrong. Sonic decided to confront him after breakfast. Knuckles continued sitting there, glaring at his empty plate long after he was finished. Then, so suddenly as to startle Sonic, who was diligently watching him, he jolted up, and stormed off without a word to anyone.

Sonic pushed his plate forward and wiped his mouth, indicating that he was finished (although he would have liked to polish off every dish there). Catching the stare of Julie one last time, he pushed himself out of his chair, and more or less limped after Knuckles. He frowned slightly, nothing was the way it used to be... But at least Knuckles was still alive... Unlike some other friends he could name. And some who were more than friends.

As tears burned his eyes, he continued to stomp after Knuckles, determined not to loose his last connection to the old world, twenty years past. He thought of all the times they'd fought together, and the times they'd fought each other. All the jokes, the laughs, the tears... they returned to him in a second.

He remembered Amy, how she had chased him relentlessly, her determination never letting up for a second. He'd always admired her persistence, but he'd never truly appreciated her, never rewarded her efforts. They say you don't miss the water until the well runs dry. Long would he remember that hated day, in fact he thought he'd never get over it. The day his heart turned to stone. It was thirteen years ago on a cold, rainy night.

Those we the days when it had still occasionally rained in the city, but even then, the sky was the color of death. The thunder cracking in the distance indicated that this storm would be a bad one. Everyone else had bolted their doors and hid in the relative safety of their own homes. He happened to be outdoors when the rain began.

The people bottled up inside had no idea what truly went on that day. They had all been warned that flooding was a strong possibility... quite an understatement. The ditches and ruts dug by the cars and tanks filled with great puddles, and the gutters were overflowing... causing their poisonous contents to rise to the surface. As the streets flooded higher and higher, the water gradually became tainted with raw sewage.

Finally, the hurricane itself came to bear against the city. Sonic had clutched a street light with all his might as the waves sloshed angrily below him. The wind bit at his eyes, and threw stinging, salty water into them. He clenched his teeth and stared fearfully down at the rising swells, swimming had never been his forte.

Peering around him with one eye, he searched out potential methods of escape... a plank of wood, an empty barrel, anything that could keep him afloat. But amid the roaring waves he saw a person being tossed about like a rag doll. Gasping in recognition, he leapt down from his perch, and began swimming towards them as best as he was able. Struggling against the might of the current, he moved closer, taking in mouthfuls of sea water. The monstrous storm howled overhead, while thunder roared down. Lightning struck in the distance, illuminating his surroundings, and allowing him to find his target, and grab her.

Carrying both their weight was rather difficult, but urgency and concern had suddenly given his limbs great strength. Spying a window washing platform, he crawled towards it, gulping down more of the sickening liquid. Hoisting himself onto the planks, he pulled her on after him, both of them sopping wet. Wiping a bit of rain out of his eyes, he bent over to inspect her, rolling her over so that she was facing upwards. To his shock and anguish, he discovered that her eyes were closed, and she was not coughing as he was. Clasping firmly onto her hand, he listened gently for a heartbeat, or the sound of breathing. He heard nothing. Her stomach did not move. Amy Rose was dead.

It took a good fifteen seconds for this to truly sink in. The realization hit Sonic all at once, sending him to his knees, his eyes brimming with tears. He felt as if his insides had been torn out, or a giant sword had been driven through him. For a moment, the world around him faded, there was nothing but him and his raging emotions. Explosions of rage and sorrow flooded him, and he pounded his fists into the surface he lay on, while wailing pitifully.

Years passed. All his friends said that Sonic was never the same, and probably never would be. Personally, he agreed with them. Now, Amy's death was only a faint bitterness, a distant musing. He would wish that he had shown her more affection, that they could have actually had something real between them. Apparently, fate had chosen to deny him the son he'd always dreamed of having. For some reason, Sonic had always looked forward with great excitement to one day being a father... But it had all been stolen in a moment. He still blamed himself. If only he had gotten to her faster, if only this, if only that. Memories of her shining emerald eyes and light laughter tortured him constantly, he still thought of her now and then. And for some reason, on that day when he'd saved Julie, when he'd heard that scream echo from the dank alleyway, in his mind he'd seen the terrified face of Amy, calling out to him for help.

* * * * *

A series of loud knocks ripped Knuckles from his musings, causing him to glance up at the door, and ask, without stopping his workout,

"Who is it, and what do you want?" with a rather indignant air.

"It's the pizza man, who do you think it is?" Sonic muttered, but he received no response. Sighing, he refused to be ignored. "Knuckles, please let me in, I want to talk to you."

Grumbling, muttering and sputtering, Knuckles got up and opened the door, shooting Sonic an icy glance before wordlessly returning to his exercises.

"How many push-ups are you on?" Sonic asked with a raised brow, noting that his old friend was covered in sweat.

"One... hundred... and forty... three" Knuckles said in between reps, which he was doing with one hand. Sonic looked stunned, and eyed his friend's bulging biceps for a moment before remembering his original reason for wishing to speak to Knuckles.

"Knuckles, why didn't you eat anything at breakfast?" Sonic inquired with a bit of an accusatory tone, but Knuckles only paused a moment and peered at him out of one eye before continuing and answering gruffly.

"I did eat something..." he panted, acting as if Sonic were nagging him like a grandmother.

"You know what I mean. You used to eat like twenty people. Now you eat like a bird. What's eating _you_ buddy?" Sonic asked as he paced, as if in turmoil about coming forth with his concerns. At this, Knuckles stopped his pumping and stood up, glaring at Sonic brusquely, before seating himself on his head.

"You wouldn't know would you, since we haven't seen each other in so long. Don't pretend you know who I am anymore Sonic!" Knuckles growled, while fumbling under his bed for something.

"Well, the only way we can get to know each other again is if you'll talk to me. You see-" Sonic became silent as his eyes widened, his mouth hung open. Knuckles only looked slightly amused at his befuddlement, and blew a puff of smoke in his face.

"What, good old Knuxie-boy smokes cancer-sticks? Well, I need something to calm my nerves..." Knuckles sounded a bit defensive, but a thin layer of guilt lurked under the surface.

"Knuckles, why?" was all that Sonic could manage, continuing to stare at his addicted friend.

"One of the powers of the Master Emerald is that it provides a calming effect. Well, I've been around it so long, I got dependent on it. That's why I was so restless whenever it got lost or stolen..." Knuckles mused, while puffing in another lung-full of tar. "When I lost the Master Emerald... I lost its soothing effect. I had to replace it with something. In all honesty, I'm lucky this is ALL I'm hooked on."

Sonic glanced at his friend, his friend who had always been strong, almost seemingly invincible, in his moment of weakness. Placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, he quietly told him that everything would be alright... even though deep in his heart, he did not believe it himself.

* * * * *

"Oh, y'know, I don't really know the answer t' that one..." Camerov trailed off, deep in thought. "I suppose you'll have to ask Commander Stephen or Commander Nathan."

"Not Commander Nathan, definitely not Commander Nathan!" Sonic stuttered, baffled at the very idea of asking the immense black man a question.

"Still scared of him, are you?" Camerov chuckled, eyeing the new rebel appreciatively.

"Let's just say I'd prefer not to ask him this particular question..." Sonic sighed, shifting his eyes nervously to make sure they were not being listened to. After all, he had lived the last twenty years under the dominion of a totalitarian... perhaps even fascist government... and old habits die hard. Camerov chuckled, pointing behind Sonic.

"I believe Stephen is in that direction..." Camerov offered with a devious grin on his face. Sonic whirled around to come face to face with the older ferret, who was also staring at him (for some reason it seemed he was very interesting to look at?). He teetered and then stuttered for a moment, before clearing his throat, and addressing his leader.

"Sir-" he began, but the commander interrupted him.

"None of that sir stuff. You're among friends now if you so chose to be, and you can damn well call me by my name!" Stephen retorted, rolling his eyes in a rather childish fashion.

"Stephen-" once again, he was stopped by the diminutive commander.

"Cammie's been calling me Stephen again, hasn't he? And around new recruits too! Sonic, I would like it better if you called me what all my friends called me back in Auzzie, Stevie!" the brown furred warrior explained.

"Auzzie?" Sonic said with a raised eyebrow, before Camerov glanced over at him from another conversation, and answered his monosyllabic question.

"Australia. Stephen's home-country." He remarked as if it were a quaint little country.

"You don't have very much of an accent..." Sonic muttered when he saw Stevie looking at him indignantly.

"I suppose it's worn off a bit over the years... You bloody Americans always thinkin' that you're better than everyone else." he muttered, before he noticed Sonic staring silently at him, waiting for him to finish his tirade. Once he had completely stopped talking, Sonic began speaking again.

"Stevie, I have a question to ask you. Why don't you see very many black people around... people like Nathan?" Sonic asked with great curiosity, but also a bit of darkness... as if he already knew that the answer would be something horrible.

"I see you haven't read Chapter 5 of the book I gave you..." Stevie remarked, smirking at Sonic's double take.

"Well you see see- um, Stevie, I've been so excited with the preparations for the attack and all, I haven't been able to read."

"The attack falls in three days... You should have plenty of time before then." Stevie mused. Sonic glared at the somewhat secretive ferret, and he envied him. Being even the little bit older he was, he must have clearer memories of the times before... memories he deeply coveted. Without addressing anyone further, he stomped off to find the book.

* * * * *

-

_It is not so much that the Regime is racist, but rather that it cannot afford for anomalies... minorities within a population. Differences cause a sharing of ideas... a deadly thing for a government that relies on ignorance. _Sonic was beginning to understand, bit by bit, every cruelty inflicted by the Regime. But this was an unusual learning. Normally, the more one learns, the more one wants to learn, it is natural curiosity. But Sonic felt the more he read, the more he felt the compulsion to slam the book shut and scream that it could not be so. He had always known of the horrors of the Regime, or at least, thought he had known. But never before were they all thrust into his face in a moment, laid bare, all the lies and propaganda entirely stripped away.

_I know from experience. As many of you are aware, I hail from the great land of Australia. In my youth, I was part of a gang of international thieves known as "The Sufferous Seven". The group was comprised of seven individuals of unique talents, each from a different country. When the Regime took over and crime became illegal (those of you who think that the government did not sanction crime before are fools), we were forcibly split up. Each of us was sent back to our respective countries... except me. Australia now serves as the Regime' prison, they send the banished rebels there to rot. I was instead sent to another English speaking country, America. _Sonic tried to picture Stevie as part of a gang of international thieves, but the image would not come to his mind. He chuckled slightly, and continued on.

_They do the same with all people. All orientals were forcibly deported back to Asia, all whites sent to Europe and North America, all Native Americans sent to South America, and all blacks, regardless of their nationality, to Africa. Now, over time, there have been some mix-ups, some bleeding of the lines... but the Regime has ensured that these do not taint their system. Always are people of different races than the local population painted as evil... and discriminated against. An escaped fugitive from Africa would never stand a chance in Europe... he would be eaten alive by the KKK._ Sonic's eyes widened in horror... the Klu Klux Klan still existed... he thought it had been demolished decades ago in the Civil Rights movement. Hungrily gripping the book, he read quickly onward, devouring the distasteful information.

_Nathan is one of the few exceptions. He was born to a black woman and a white man... quite an uncommon combination. Hunted by the Regime from early childhood because he "bridged the barrier between the two races", I took him under my wing, and raised him as best as I was able. The Rebellion has always advocated equality between all people, rich and poor, black and white, thin and fat, smart and stupid. A person is a person, end of story. _Sonic sighed and glanced around him for a moment in thought. So this was how the terrible story went. Truly, when their attack began, swift justice would be brought down on this monster... he almost felt sorry for whatever cruel creature was behind all this...

_Each of the other members of "The Seven", have set up their own respective Rebellion headquarters in their home country, making us the largest organization to resist the Regime ever. We seven are the top commanders, and keep in contact to coordinate our efforts. I have not seen my friends face to face in ten years at the time of this writing. I likely will not until all is said and done. God help us._ Sonic wasn't sure if he believed in God any more. As a young child, his parents had instilled that belief in him, and once he was orphaned, it had slowly but surely disappeared. He certainly did not believe that everything around him was sheer chance, that his very existence was a mathematical anomaly... but he did know that if there was a God out there, it was not the God his parents had described to him.

He had learned from them that God was supposed to be an all powerful, all knowing being who created the universe. Fair enough. But generally, God was also depicted as caring deeply for him and everyone else on the planet. Surely if this were so then he would not be where he was today. No, there was no loving creator looking out for him. The world was cold, the sky was deathly, stars hid their faces, and whips cracked, as mothers wept, and innocent blood cried out from the ground. Surely, if there ever was a god, he was dead. Satan ruled the world now.

* * * * *

The black and red streaked hedgehog marched down the corridors, glancing about in awe at his surroundings. The massive size and grandeur of the palace never ceased to impress him, and he always felt rather small and vulnerable within it's massive halls. On the outer walls, draping curtains hung over the windows, blocking out nearly all light. He had grown used to the darkness. His shoes made a soft click as he walked across the stone floor, and he tried to stop himself from shivering... and he failed.

He was to learn about recent troop movements... and the new Minister of Justice was to to teach him. He sighed as he entered the briefing room. It was not easy being the son of Shadow the Hedgehog.

His father had told him since birth that once he got old enough, he was to rule the kingdom in his father's example... with an iron fist. Secretly, he found the idea of dominating other people's wills disgusting, but if there was one thing that motivated him more than his distaste for cruelty, it was fear of his father's wrath. Unluckily for him, Shadow was not easily pleased.

He had grown up without a mother figure, and had rarely left the royal palace. What he had seen outside had immediately made him want to retreat back inside... although he hated the palace as well. It was always dreadfully cold, and the giant rooms, the giant windows, the giant throne, all looked so powerful and threatening. Finally, his father lurked in the shadows, waiting for some unfortunate victim who had earned his disapproval.

The King had three hobbies, each of which were utterly detestable to the little hedgehog, who was a near replica of his parent. The first was to watch battles, troop movements. The older black hedgehog seemed to take sadistic delight at his soldiers rushing about, obeying his every command. The second was to bury himself in books. His father had admitted before that he was addicted to power. And as the old saying goes, knowledge is power. Over the last twenty years, Shadow had reportedly acquired a level of knowledge equivalent to seven master's degrees.

When he saw the Minister of Justice staring at him coldly, he realized that he must have been miles away mentally, and prepared himself for a scolding.

"Young man, how will you ever hope to rule this empire if you don't understand military strategy! Your father-" the minister was cut off by the voice of a cloaked figure emerging from the darkness in the corner of the room.

"Is here. Son, why don't you want to learn about this?" Shadow asked levelly, peering at his son with a hint of disdain.

"It's boring... and pointless. I'm never..." he was about to say that he was never going to use it, but from the fire in his father's eyes, he guessed that would be unwise.

"If you don't want to do it, why are you letting this pansy order you around? If you want to be King someday, you're going to have to learn how to get up in people's faces, and tell them what to do!" Shadow said, before demonstrating by turning and yelling at the minister about not telling his son what to do, which thoroughly frightened the man, and impressed his son. It was one of the only times he could remember his father sticking up for him. Shadow shot his son one last expectant glance, before he stormed off, back from whence he had came.

* * * * *

Julie Peterson stalked down the metallic hallways, a slight frown caressing her otherwise striking features. Her mind was rather distant, and in her lack of concentration, she bumped into another soldier. Embarrassment clouding her judgement, she hastily apologized and moved along before they had a chance to acknowledge her. The dull hum of the light fixtures on the ceiling resonated down the hallways, and her pony tail swayed from side to side as she walked.

She had no doubt that she would not like this, Stevie had always underestimated her, but now that she had gotten into trouble in Station Square, failed her mission, and been rescued by some common civilian... he was sure to give her what they liked to politely call "overkill missions". She preferred to call them "Stevie is a jackass missions". She certainly had no lack of abilities or spirit, that wasn't her problem.

Her strength _was_ her weakness. She fought with emotion, channeling her anger, her suffering into fighting the Regime. As long as she had these emotions under control and used them as a tool, she was very dangerous. Once she allowed the emotions to control her, and use her as a tool, she slipped up and endangered lives. Surely, this could not be good news.

Entering the chamber of the first in command, she stood tall and upright, and tried to exude confidence. Inside her knees were knocking. Stevie stood, and eyed her a moment before beginning to pace in front of his desk, as if a great deal was on his mind.

"Julie, I've been thinking about this coming attack a great deal..." he sighed, glancing up at her to make sure he had her attention.

"I certainly believe it sir." she answered, not budging an inch.

"I want to add an extra mission in addition to the main objective. A mission to be undertaken solely by you. In the past, I have placed a reasonable level of confidence in your abilities and self control. No more. From now on, you have my full trust!" The commander triumphantly announced, turning to face Julie. Her mouth hung open, and she stared at him in disbelief.

"This better not be a prank!" she smiled, her eyes alight with a new fire.

"Definitely not. Here's a brief description. With the attack on Roujin Fortress, the army will be distracted. Amidst the confusion, I want you to make an assassination. I must warn you, this mission will be extremely dangerous. If you are caught, you will be tortured, you will be raped, you will be executed. I will not hold it against you if you refuse."

"You know I like to live in the fast lane." she smirked, ready to prove herself to them all. Stevie eyed her, his face like stone. Her smile faded, and she stared at him quizzically. Stevie was never serious. Something was amiss.

"Julie, I have faith in you. I believe in you. But are you sure you want to do this?" he muttered, his eyes dull and unmoving.

"Stevie, what are you talking about?" she said suspiciously, realizing the graveness of how he was acting. He stared at her solemnly a moment longer, his eyes dark with apprehension.

"Julie... I... I want you to kill _him_." Stevie paused to allow his words to sink in, as he looked away from her. "And when you are done... I will have one more mission for you... with you must carry out to the letter."

"Sir?" she breathed, the shock of his request not nearly gone.

"I've enclosed it in this envelope. You are not to open it until he is dead. Will you take the mission? Will you go to the royal palace?" Stevie inquired, with one eyebrow raised.

"I'll go... I'm just not entirely sure I'm coming back. But why do I get the ultimate honor... vengeance for all this unrighteousness?" she said, eyeing him. She knew he wanted this more than anyone.

"I'm getting too old for this sort of thing. For years I've acted like a child. Now it's time for me to act my age. I'm fifty three years old. I will not be infiltrating the royal palace, sneaking past dozens of guards, and assassinating the most cruel and powerful dictator the world has ever seen. In the end, it must be someone else. I feel you deserve it the most." he trailed off, glancing at her stone face. His words rung after her, and she winced at her coming task.

"Damn does time fly by. It seems just yesterday I was swearing to kill this monster, and in two days I will be." she mused, before pacing slowly off, to prepare for her mission. All their fates hinged upon her success... or failure. She would kill the King... or die trying.


	4. The Night

**Chapter 4: The Night**

He felt his stomach churn in nausea at the sea of images before him. Of course, he held his tongue. It would be most unwise to anger the despot seated to his right. The diminutive hedgehog boy glanced nervously at his father, who was watching the screen in detached interest. Why he was forced to participate in such activities was beyond him.

His father seemed to have acquired an insatiable thirst for blood in all it's forms, whether he was reaping it, or watching it be shed. About every week or so, he and his son would have some "bonding time", which, when interpreted from Shadow-speak, was "you do something I enjoy". On those days, Dawn was forced to watch violent movies, or spectate torture sessions... all of which made him nearly throw up. But the worst part wasn't even the the sickening smell of the blood, but the guilt. When the prisoners looked into his eyes, the sorrow he saw there made him shake with remorse... after all he was only thirteen years old.

He had been born about seven years after his father had assumed control. The circumstances surrounding his birth had always been a delicate topic. His father didn't talk about anything much, but talked especially little about his mother. All Dawn ever managed to get out of him was that his mother had named him... and no more. He had lived his entire life without knowing his mother, and assumed she was dead. He wished with all his heart that he could have known her, and wondered if perhaps her death was what had made Shadow the way he was.

As with all other weekly sessions, he felt as if there was an internal pressure inside him, waiting to explode. Some part of him wanted to please his father, yearned for his approval, but all of his being wished that there was some other way to earn his affection. He had considered, a number of times, running away from home... but he knew what folly such an undertaking would be. Surely, his father's men would find him, and Dawn would be severely punished for his wrong-doings. His father had said many times, he could tolerate a liar, forgive a murderer, even grow to love his own enemies (he never elaborated on what he meant by this), the one thing he could not suffer was a traitor.

Dawn detested everything about the Royal Palace, it all looked the same to him. All the politicians and soldiers who came and went were the same, all the meals were the same, the books were boring... and all other recreational activities were of such a nature that they made him feel sick. He had however, found one saving grace in the place, one feature he loved.

He was not at all afraid of heights, and enjoyed looking out from high views, and surveying his surroundings. In general, all that he saw was dismal and grey, but there were some more lighthearted sights. Once he had seen a man dressed in rags, beard down to his collar standing on a street corner and singing for coins. He was actually quite good. After awhile, a small crowd began to gather round him and watch, their curiosity and boredom overcoming their fear. Another time, he had seen a pretty girl who was pushing along a cart, and selling flowers.

The palace was totally devoid of any of the opposite sex, or at least that's what Dawn thought... He had never seen a female politician, a female soldier, or a female house-servant. There were only two times when he got to see a girl at all. The first was when he stood on his balcony, peering down at the city. He had tried to determine what it was that made them different from him... without any success. So far the only differences he could see were softer features and longer hair. Surely there had to be a better explanation than this.

The second time in which he might encounter a mystifying girl was when he was actually out and about in the city. He never had long to observe them, as he was usually spirited away by either his father or accompanying soldiers. His insatiable curiosity had only grown more ravenous with time. Once he had tried asking his father about girls. His father had given little explanation, using strange words which were rather large, and he had no comprehension of. He remembered hearing the word _estrogen_, and had guessed that it was one of the differences he had been looking for, but all his father's books were of a painfully boring nature, and he dared not peruse them for the answer.

The numerous politicians who crept about and shuddered at the sight of Shadow were sickly, disgusting men, and were no fun at all. Most of them were either interested in the same things as his father, or engrossed in equally or more vile subjects... such as genocide.

But here on his balcony, at least for the moment, he was safe. He could allow his mind to wander freely, and his eyes to watch in mild interest, the forms of the passing people below. Dawn had invented a special game he liked to play up here, he would make up names and lives for all the people who passed, and mumble them to himself.

"That man is Jeremy Donnson, and he works at a concrete plant. That's why he's all dirty. He's been drinking lately, because he's losing his house..." Dawn uttered, staring down at a bustling man in a grey overcoat. Moving on to another target, he started again.

"He's William Baker, and he manages the tire plant. They've been running low on rubber lately, and he doesn't know where he's going to get any more." Incredibly, Dawn would remember the pseudo-lives he had bestowed upon people, and expand upon them when the same person passed. Eventually, some people who passed by every day had epics written about them, tales of loss and struggle. He wondered if he ever managed to get close to what their real lives were.

Suddenly, Dawn felt a firm hand clasp his shoulder, and looked back to see his father glaring down at him. The ever-present frown painted on his face, his eyes seemed even darker than usual, something was surely amiss.

"Son, what are you doing?" the ultimate dictator questioned, raising one eyebrow in suspicion.

"I was just... watching the people." Dawn muttered, while staring at his feet. He had always found his father a bit intimidating, he was so smart, and strong, and cruel... he was scary.

"Come, I want to show you something." Shadow commanded, and turned to leave without making sure Dawn was following him. He knew that he was. The child hedgehog strained to keep up with his father's long strides, and nearly tripped over himself. Shadow moved through the palace deftly and quietly, his shoes did not click on the floor like his son's did. Perhaps this was from years of practice of walking softly, or perhaps it was because Dawn's shoes looked like they were too big for him.

Dawn was a near carbon copy of his father. Etched in his fur was an obsidian black, slightly and almost indecipherably lighter than his father's midnight black. He was considerably shorter than his father, giving him the look of a younger Shadow. His muzzle was pale from under-exposure to sunlight, and tearing down his quills were Shadow's trademark crimson streaks. They were a bit thinner than Shadow's, and had a glossy shimmer to them. Dawn sported a pair of enormous, round eyes with giant, curious pupils. The irises were a bright, almost glowing violet, of an extremely dark hue.

Dawn looked at his father and saw everything he aspired for, everything he wished to be, and at the same time, everything he hoped he would never become. One day, he hoped to be that strong, with those bulging muscles, that tall... but he prayed that he would never become that cruel. Still, he did not hate his father... could not hate his father.

Suddenly, the pair stopped walking. They were standing directly in the center of Shadow's dark throne room. Dawn did not like this room, and avoided coming here as much as he could. Shadow stepped away from him, and sank into his throne. Only his brilliant garnet eyes were visible from the darkness. Shadow's son stood in a circle of light in the middle of the room, which cascaded down on his head from a window in the ceiling. He was surrounded by the darkness, and wondered numbly what his father intended.

"My son... every day you grow closer to becoming a man. Every day... the hour of your ascension draws nearer. You will be King. You would have power over the whole world, power to do... whatever you wished. You could build a society of scientists, and cure all diseases. You could command it, and civilization would take to the stars, and explore the universe. You need only say a word, and thousands of willing slaves would fall at your feet to obey. And yet you persist in your efforts to resist." Shadow's voice was low and level, and to Dawn's surprise, contained no anger. In fact, it sounded kind of sad.

"The reason for this is simple. You do not truly know what you are being offered, what kind of power I wield. I believe you need to taste it for yourself, you need to sample what it is to hold power.

"Until now, I have strictly limited your privileges. Not any longer. From now on, you are second in command of the entire kingdom, none shall be above you but me. Now, consider this for a moment. Anything you order shall be done. Anything you desire shall be given to you. Anywhere you wish to go, you shall be taken. Give it a try..." Shadow indicated a servant standing to their right. Dawn bit his lip and turned to look at the man. There were so many things he wanted, so many answers, so much he wanted, but he knew that his father was baiting him.

"May I please have a lemonade?" Dawn asked, but jumped at his father's following exclamation.

"No! Order him to get it for you! Don't ask him! And above all, do not use the word 'please'." The king growled, slumping in his throne and cradling his head in his hand.

"Get me a lemonade now!" he said in his most intimidating voice, but only to please his father. He hadn't really meant it, and felt guilty afterwards. The lemonade relieved his guilt.

"You see, when you assert your authority, you get what you want." Shadow hissed, before standing up and leaving his son in the midst of the dark, empty throne room. Only the echo of his father's cold words and the harsh reality of his fate were left to accompany him.

* * * * *

"What do you think about that Sonic fella?" Nathan asked, while tinkering with a piece of machinery. He looked up from his work to glance at his friend, and wiped some oil off on his tattered shirt.

"You'd best beware of him. I knew him way back when. He's a lot smarter than he looks..." Knuckles muttered, while inhaling on his cigarette.

"We need fellas like him. I'm glad to have him, he's got spunk and experience." Nathan shrugged, returning to his work for another second.

"I'm not, I wish he'd died years ago." Knuckles remarked, and it was the truth.

"You really don't like him?" It was more a statement than a question, but the fact that Nathan was surprised made it sound and look like he was inquisitive.

"I like him alright I suppose. I don't wish he'd died for my sake... I wish it for his. I know him, and when he finds out the truth... he won't be able to take it." Knuckles mused, while stroking his chin. Knuckles observed Nathan a bit longer before he turned to leave, but was stopped by a booming voice behind him.

"Not everybody belongs in a world of broken pieces. And I don't hold it against him." Nathan scolded, before returning to his silence, and his work. Knuckles left without replying.

* * * * *

Since she had received her secret mission, Julie had remained distant from her other comrades. She had always believed in over-preparing. Now was certainly not the time to change her mind. She was having some trouble focussing, her mind kept returning to unresolved issues in her soul, until she was gradually convinced that she wouldn't sleep a moment until the king lay dead.

When she had a moment of quiet, she found herself making lists of things she wished to do before she died. She knew that if she were to die, none of them would end up accomplished, but it made her feel better to think that she might see some photographs of the Grand Canyon before they blasted it to rubble and excavated some iron deposits.

As instructed, she had told no-one of her secret endeavors... apparently not even commander Nathan was aware of her mission. Stevie always said that he believed artists performed best when you told them what to do, not how to do it. For this reason, he had left her methods entirely up to her own decision. She had decided that she could never beat the despot in a direct confrontation, and she would try to snipe him from a palace window.

She had always been a dead eye shot... hitting him wouldn't be the problem. The true challenge lay in getting into position, in sneaking into the palace. The Royal Palace was one of the most secure locations in the city, possibly the world. The place was protected by hordes of soldiers Then there was the matter of the King himself. He was said to be quite formidable. She would only get one shot before the entire garrison was alerted to her presence. There was no room for mistakes. Even if she succeeded, she would likely be captured. But it didn't matter. Along with the king, the Regime would die.

Stevie had said before that the King _was_ the Regime. He held all true power. And all the soldiers and politicians in his army, the very population of the world, was held under his sway by fear. So great was his power that none could stop him. Once he was dead, it was predicted that the Regime would break out into civil war, and destroy itself in a manner of days. Then, all would be set right. Too bad she likely wouldn't be around to admire the fruits of her own labors. But it often was that way, that great men and women never lived to see their dreams come true. Perhaps it was simply the way of the world.

* * * * *

Sonic rolled his eyes and sighed, this was old news. Since he was relatively new to the Rebellion, it seemed that his superiors thought he knew nothing about anything, and needed to be educated. Despite the fact that he had demonstrated numerous times the knowledge of how to fire a gun and flank and enemy position, they insisted on teaching it to him. Idly, he supposed that they wouldn't have jobs if they didn't tell new recruits useless stuff. Still, he wished that the last couple days before the attack could be spent more recreationally.

There were so many things out there he hadn't seen, hadn't experienced in years, or never experienced before... so long had he been under the grip of the Regime. He no longer felt the sensation of always being watched, but nevertheless it seemed no matter where he went, Camerov could track him down and do what he did best.

He found Stevie and Nathan rather interesting, but the both of them were extremely busy with preparations for the attack. And so in the spare moments he could steal, he found himself squandering his time doing mostly nothing. It was nothing new to him, he'd more or less been doing nothing for the last twenty years, but he thought that was what he'd joined the Rebellion to escape. Perhaps he was just a discontent.

"You look bored Sonic, is anything the matter?" ironically, most of the officers and soldiers who were higher rank than him were younger than him, including the sergeant who posed the question.

"It seems that my preparations for the attack are complete; I have nothing to do." Sonic sighed, while glancing around for something to occupy his attention. The minutes had seemed to crawl by for the last several years, but even more so than usual in the last two days.

"Why don't you read a book?" the sergeant retorted, and was surprised when Sonic took it literally.

"Yeah well I only have one book, and I've read it a thousand times." he explained. The soldier looked surprised and then confused, and he looked at Sonic a little closer.

"Why don't you just check out a new one from the library?" he stated more than asked, as if it were the obvious solution.

"Why didn't anyone tell me you guys have a library? Where can I find it?" the cobalt hedgehog replied excitedly, his emerald eyes widening.

"Down that hall, fifth door on the left." the sergeant said while pointing down a particular hallway. After thanking the soldier, Sonic somewhat merrily made off to find the library. All the libraries had been shut down a couple years after the Regime takeover, and although he hadn't seen one in years, he still remembered what treasures they contained.

As he made his short trip to the library which seemed to be made longer by his condition, he pondered the base a little. It seemed to him as though it was actually more of a town than a military installation. Sure, they had their army and their weapons, but Sonic had also seen civilians, who were working in factories, tending to fields, and fishing, he'd seen school busses loaded with children thundering down the pavement, he'd seen a cat chased up an oak by it's mortal enemy, the ever grouchy pit bull... and now a library.

From what he'd been told the base was populated by a total of over thirty thousand refugees from Station Square and the surrounding area. Each was fed and housed, and each did some job or another for the Rebellion. The brave joined the army, the less brave worked in the factories. All the Rebellion's weapons had to be manufactured, the Regime placed trackers in their weapons to keep civilians from stealing them. Food, medical supplies and raw materials however, were fair game when it came time to raid the Regime's supplies. They always had to be careful when they were recruiting out of the citizens in the city. Anyone could secretly be a Watcher, and alert the police to the location of their base. If the Regime ever found out the location of their installation, they would be quickly annihilated.

Stepping through the doorway, Sonic's nerves were quickly calmed by the quiet atmosphere of the library, and all his doubts were put to rest. The librarian smiled at him as he entered, and he offered up a grin in return. Stepping off to search the bookshelves, he sorted through their selection of books, and was amazed by their variety. They had children's books, fiction, self help... but not just salvaged books from before the Regime... they also had brand new books. Books written by members of the Rebellion, a new generation of writers, poets, and artists. One particular book immediately drew Sonic's attention and captured it, refusing to relinquish it.

The book sat on a stool on the far end of the library. Its cover was extremely dusty, as if no-one dared touch it. It was bound in solid black, and there was no title printed on the cover. Its pages were lined in crimson, and a presence seemed to possess it, as if the book were alive. Sonic eyed it for a moment, mentally debating about whether or not to take a closer look. Eventually, his curiosity got the better of him, and he strode forth to examine the mysterious book.

Its strangeness was most certainly not in its appearance, it looked fairly normal. He was just about to pick it up, when he heard that he was being spoken to, and turned around the address the person who was trying to get his attention. The librarian was scolding him with her eyes, but she looked more fearful than annoyed.

"Don't you know that you're not supposed to touch that book?" she whispered even more quietly than normal.

"No, I didn't. Why can't I touch it?" Sonic asked with great curiosity, while casting it a exploratory glance.

"You really don't know. Because he wrote it!" she raised her voice slightly as if her vague reply was urgent.

"Who is he?" Sonic asked, dumbfounded and not yet accustomed to the taboos around the base. He was not yet aware that they didn't like to directly mention the King on base, and therefore referred to him by using rather bland pronouns such as "he, his, him", with a strange tone of voice.

"You know... the King..." she spat as if it left a sour taste in her mouth, glaring at him and daring him to push her further. Comprehension dawned in Sonic's eyes and he looked at the book again, and his curiosity overflowed.

"Are we not allowed to touch it?" he asked carefully, while staring at it rather than her.

"There's no rule against it, it simply isn't done! Every person who has read that book has suffered horrible nightmares!" she explained, her manner grave.

"My life was a nightmare for the last twenty years. Any dreams that are caused by reading a book will be nothing compared to the living hell I've endured. I believe that this is the book I wish to check out." Sonic insisted, while gingerly picking up the cursed black book and dusting it off.

"It has no title on the cover. What should I call it?" Sonic asked, while examining the inside.

"It is called _The Black Book_."

* * * * *

Dawn lay on his bed staring at the roof in his room. The high ceiling mocked him, his dimly lit quarters allowed darkness to abide in the corners. One would expect that a prince would have a room filled with his hearts desires. That couldn't be farther from the truth, Dawn's room was nearly bare. A tall oak dresser sat in one corner, some fluttering white curtains cloaked the door which led to the balcony, and a simple desk intended for the purpose of his studies was off to the side. Other than these few objects, nothing was present beside his bed and a few scraps of paper.

He found it a constant challenge finding something to occupy his time. His father was constantly busy, and seemed to have little time for him. When he could take a moment from his work and spend it with his son, it was usually on an excessively gruesome activity. The palace was a depressing place to be out and about in, so exploring was utterly out of the question. Seeing the surrounding city was always a relief, but Dawn couldn't help but feel as if he was being shown only what they wanted him to see.

The soldiers were all stone faced and serious, never indulging his childish needs. (They were exceedingly good at hide and seek, but only when he had done something wrong.) The politicians who sulked about either ignored him entirely or regarded him with snide, conceited glares and stinging remarks. He slept much of the time. Dawn often wondered if this was his destiny, to live in dreary misery for all eternity. His father always made it seem like he should have no reason to ever leave the city... A prospect that made Dawn slightly angry at his father. His anger quickly subsided when he was reminded of the ferocity of his father's wrath.

He was an immensely curious child, and he always felt as if he were starving. Food was plentiful beyond comprehension, and it was certainly warm within the palace, but it seemed there was a draught of new and interesting things to discover. Dawn felt as if every day were the same, and before long, lost all track of time. Today became yesterday, tomorrow became the day after. It had been like this for months now, and Dawn felt as though he would die if he didn't get out soon.

Any fascination he displayed apart from a lust of power was generally strictly rebuked, and he had learned that the less he spoke, the less trouble he got into. It was nearing the day of anniversary of his birth. This was the one time of year he got excited about. What made it different from other days was that on his birthday, as surely as the sun rose, his father would appear without warning and give him something... his present. This was the one time in which his father seemed to melt and show kindness. At the very least, for that day, there seemed to be no resemblance between his wise, kind hearted father, and the cold, cruel hedgehog who normally stalked the walls.

Last year his father had given him an all purpose electronic device. It strapped onto his wrist, and served a variety of functions. It told the time, displayed information of any kind, could play some games he didn't recognize... At first he had been entirely enamored with it, treasuring it as his most precious possession for several months. Of late he had grown to use it less, but he still appreciated it and valued it highly. He was in great anticipation of what his father would give him this year.

His birthday was a week away and the ebony despot had already appointed him second in the kingdom. And that's when it hit him. What was he doing sitting in here burning his life away when he could simply order to be taken out to tour the city. He could give the command, and they would have to allow him to study females more closely... and perhaps finally make his allusive conclusion as to their differences. (At this time, Dawn was more or less raging with hormones, but knew practically nothing of the opposite sex. He was ruled by curiosity.)

And yet somewhere in him, he knew that was what his father wanted. His father wanted him to taste power and become addicted like him. After pondering it a moment, he decided that one could only become power lusting if one abused and overused their power, like his father. He decided that as long as he used his power for a good purpose, there was nothing inherently wrong with its use.

Quickly gaining the attention of a servant, he made his wishes known, and within moments, he was preparing to leave for the city. This time, he was not to be accompanied by his father, or a procession of soldiers, but rather a single body guard who was to ensure his safety. The guard explained that he was instructed to interfere in situations only where Dawn requested it, or he deemed it a possible hazard to Dawn himself. He reflected that this could mean anything, but that it was certainly progress.

It felt great to be trusted by his father. The feeling of his father's regard only made the idea of seeing the outside world that much sweeter, and he reveled in his surroundings, as bleak as they were. Without even thinking about it, he continued to play his game where he assigned fictional life stories to those he passed by. Mustering his resolve, he even said hello to a passerby. The person greeted him with a smile and a light reply, but their eyes seemed hollow.

Everyone he saw looked like half a person, as if the spark of life were gone from their eyes. Like wretched, ramshackle robots they marched around, taking in everything through dull, narrow eyes. He deduced that they only smiled at him because he was a child. Absently he wondered if there was anyone at all in the whole world who was happy. From his current impressions, he guessed not. His previous euphoria had washed away, the grim reality of the world before him was beginning to sink in.

Surely if his father knew how bad things were, he would take action. Surely, his advisors were lying to him and keeping the knowledge from him. Dawn knew that his father was cruel, but he also knew his father to be just... fair in his cruelty, everyone suffered equally. A thought occurred to Dawn that chilled him to the bone. If these were the conditions in the heart of the capital, what were things like in the slums and ghettos? What was it like in the prison camps?

Dawn did not and could not believe that his father could be responsible for such suffering, surely there had to be another culprit. He looked at his escort for reassurance, but all he received was a blank stare. Sadness clouding his vision, he trudged onwards. Now that he finally had the opportunity to see everything that he wished, he found that the more he saw, the less he wanted to see.

The horrors passing before his eyes burned into his mind. Families torn apart by death and war, rampant starvation in the world's wealthiest city, and police brutality that shocked Dawn to a state of numbness. After a period of careful observation, Dawn determined that in general, people's souls were as hollow as their eyes. When one citizen came under the "justice" of the Regime, all those around simply quietly move onwards, or even turned in dissidents to make themselves look better.

The women were just as much shells of humanity as the men, and they were just as dead in spirit. Every once and awhile, Dawn would see a person who still had a glow in their eyes, who still had some fight left in their spirit. But they looked weary beyond words from years of fighting and losing. Dawn watched in silent horror as brother betrayed brother, the poor stole from those poorer than themselves, and the police enforced not the law, but their personal whims.

He began to reconsider his decision never to take his father's place as King. His indignant rage began to bubble up, like lava threatening to explode and rush from the volcano's summit. He considered the idea that he could assume power and repair all injustices, that perhaps he had been given not a burden, but an incredible opportunity to fix things. After mulling this over a bit longer, he decided that he'd seen enough, and asked to be taken back to the palace.

* * * * *

The ultimate dictator slumped in his throne, his crimson eyes shining with an unearthly light. He drummed his fingers rhythmically on his stone armrest, while the wheels in his head turned furiously. Professor Gerald had originally designed him to be hyper intelligent (with the processing speed of a super computer), and the ebony hedgehog had only grown more intelligent with time.

To the casual observer, it seemed that Shadow the Hedgehog acted randomly, that it was possible, even probable, that he was insane. If you studied him closer you would know that this was not so. Insane people to do not plot, do not scheme, they only act. Everything Shadow did was with strategy, was planned out in a particular way in order to achieve the results he had desired. His plans took every possibility into account, and he was right about ninety nine percent of the time.

But that remaining one percent was the bane of his existence, in some ways, he had gone insane. One of the many pursuits of his life was perfection. After all, he was the ultimate lifeform, why not be the perfect being too. Shadow had become a perfectionist in the hopes that he could become perfect. If delusions are insanity, Shadow belonged in an asylum. The formation of the Rebellion was a result of that one percent of error. He still punished himself for allowing that to happen. No matter, it would soon be undone.

Shadow found it necessary to train himself daily, despite commanding the largest army in the world. His reasoning had always been that one of the many ways he maintained control was by being powerful himself. Every advantage he could claim he would, every weakness he could marginalize he would, his strength would be secure, his victory decisive. This was the way his mind worked. The world was a simple relationship of cause and effect.

Cause: I control more power. Effect: my power is more difficult to take away. That was the main relationship he ascribed to. Shadow's life was a constant hunt for more power, more advantages, more plan Bs and backups. He had become paranoid of late, and had been harshly scrutinizing those around him. Even his son had not escaped his accusatory stare.

Other than his paranoia and his obsessions, the King was rather happy with the way things were going. All his plans were unfolding just as he had hoped, it seemed nothing was going wrong, but this naturally meant one thing. That it wouldn't last. It had been Shadow's observation that things never went good for too long until a catastrophe hits. His fears could always be drowned in a sea of comforting scarlet.

Sleep was the one thing that never came easy to Shadow. He had such great power, in general if he desired something it was his. But he dared not take any drugs (someone could try to overdose him on purpose), and for some reason, his soul could not find rest once night fell. It had been that way for years. The affects were beginning to take a toll on his body.

He was always irritable, always exhausted, even when he didn't show it. His eyes were beginning to redden (the white parts), and he found difficultly concentrating sometimes. He had his scientists working on a short term cryogenic stasis module to substitute for sleep. They said that they would be done in a couple months... a couple months ago.

For some reason, the one thing Shadow could never escape was the feeling of being angry. For the longest time, he had no idea who or what he was angry at. He had simply boiled with fury at everyone, even those who had done nothing to earn his displeasure. In time, he had come to realize that it was himself that he was angry at, that he could not live with himself.

He could usually ignore these qualms, but lately they had been getting worse. Shadow found that an excellent way to relieve stress was to take out his anger on any prisoners who abided in the dungeons of the palace. Much to his irritation, he would have to carefully guard himself around his son. In order to convince his son that there truly was no poison in the goblet of power, he would have to take a more gentle approach.

His musings became sporadic, he felt a light hammering on the inside of his right temple. It was obvious by now that his son would not be convinced by force. He had been out of practice for a long time, but perhaps it was time to bait flies with honey rather than vinegar. Maybe it was time to make his son feel important, wanted... so that his thoughts would not wander so much.

In some ways, Shadow was eager to pass down his mantle to his son. He could never tire of the power, but of the responsibilities that came with it, he was weary. His mind was beginning to weigh heavily with the troubles of holding a totalitarian empire together... but not just any old dictatorship, he literally was in full command of every square inch of the globe.

It is said that one should never hope to reach the pinnacle, only hope to move ever higher. The reason is that once one reaches the top, the only place left to go is down. Shadow felt as if he had once held his ultimate dream in his hands, but that it was now slowly slipping through his fingers like dry sand. He no longer truly cared what his son did with his power, only that he did something with it.

Years and years ago, a man penned these words:_ "Power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely."_ They hold as true today, and tomorrow as they ever did. The world had always been divided up into haves, and have-nots. Was it simply the way things were? Were the poor doomed to always be poor, and the rich fated to spend eternity searching for happiness in their riches, and never to find it? Shadow had wondered, many times, if perhaps he was not the Regime. Perhaps the Regime was something bigger. Maybe the Regime was the greed that lived in all their hearts. In a way, perhaps Shadow was just as enslaved as any of them, enslaved to his greed and his power. And while he so desperately clung to his chains, he also searched for someone to pass them down to.

* * * * *

The Master Emerald breathed. It did not expand and detract like the lungs of a living creature, but its dim light pulsed in a slow, steady rhythm. It was very much alive. All the guardians of the past had their spirits sealed inside, and it was their collective wills, along with the first wielder of the gem, who made up the emerald's consciousness.

Surely, if they could refuse Shadow anything, they would, they had no desire to do anything but good. But it was not for them to say whether or not the use of the emerald in any particular way was for the greater good in the long run... no-one could predict that. They only had the power to resist, not to refuse.

For years now, they had stood firm against all his advances, repelling him every time from obtaining infinite power. If the near omnipotent gem had given in, surely the reign of darkness would never lift. A being as powerful as Shadow with full control of the power of the Master Emerald would be invincible. Yet every so often, the ebony dictator would make his way to Roujin Fortress, and "visit" the emerald. First he would try stroking it, and purring warm words. Gradually, as he realized he was being ignored, his anger would flare, and he would scream and rave, becoming violent and unpredictable.

Every now and then, Shadow's bastard son would appear. He never stayed long, but his admiration of the Master Emerald was typical of a child... awe. The emerald had looked into his soul, and seen that he possessed a pure heart, he had only the desire to do good. Tikal was particularly bitter of those guardians who were sealed in the Master Emerald.

That day Knuckles had failed to protect the emerald, she had angrily scolded him one last time, before sealing herself within the mighty gem. She rationalized that the elders would need all the help they could get keeping the emerald out of Shadow's control. For now, they remained successful, but many of the guardians had grown weary, and cynical. 'For how long' seemed to be the million dollar question. They could do nothing but hope they would be rescued before time ran out. From the general feeling among those trapped inside, there wasn't very much time left. Tikal had begun to lose faith in Knuckles. Perhaps this truly was the end.

No, it would not end like this, could not! She would not allow it! Tikal's anger flared, causing the emerald to glow. She charged up her own personal power, causing violet crackles of energy to dance around the gem. The light grew even brighter, and the dank chamber suddenly became very stuffy and hot. Tikal unleashed all her power at once, and placed an eternal seal upon the Master Emerald. The emerald flickered in response, blinking on and off.

Tikal was no more. But in her place she had left an unbreakable safeguard to protect the power of the Master Emerald. Now, even if the wills of all the guardians were broken, it would take two to harness the power of the emerald. And Shadow wasn't known for sharing. Surely, he could find no-one who wished for the same things as him. At the very least, it would seriously deter him. Just before she vanished into nothingness, Tikal had used a last portion of her power to send a telepathic message to Knuckles.

She had simply said this, _"Save us. Save us all. We are here."_

* * * * *

Today was the last day before the attack was to fall. It was quieter than usual, normally, the facility was bustling with excited chatter. Today, a contemplative air seemed to float about the rooms, and sound seemed as though it was muffled. The possibility that everything would be a failure and that they would all die lingered in everyone's minds.

Sonic had begun to read the book that was supposedly written by the King. But he had only read a couple paragraphs. What he had seen had made him sick, he could not continue. Printed on the page was a justification... the King claimed that the ends justified the means. He had said nothing about what those ends were. Sonic was curious as to just how much of that propaganda the King actually believed.

Everyone around him, even Camarov, was silently enjoying their meals, and ignoring him. Except one. The relentless stare still followed him. Sonic found his curiosity beginning to get the better of him as his stole glances at her unflinching gaze. It seemed to him that she was trying to communicate something without words, but he had no idea what.

Whatever she meant to tell him, her piercing azure eyes continued to bore through him, but after awhile he took no notice. As before, Knuckles consumed only meager amounts of food, and ate no meat whatsoever. Sonic had asked around, and apparently the stubborn echidna had decided to "punish himself" for losing the Master Emerald. He had explained that when he thought of the monstrous things the Regime could be doing at that very moment with it, he could barely keep himself from screaming, much less force himself to eat or sleep.

Knuckles had changed. His warm expression had shifted into frozen glares, his eyes were dull and cold. He looked even stronger than he had all those years ago, but he carried a weariness that was not physical. His habit appeared to have little effect on him, but apparently he hadn't been doing it long... In twenty years it would surely put him in bed for good.

The children who normally roamed the halls of the small city were gone today, adding to the silence of the adults who were present. Even now when a small head could be seen here or there, no noise was made by the young ones. Sonic pitied them. To have been born in these times... he would rather have never lived at all. One of the children looked vaguely familiar, and he got up out of his chair and followed the retreating form. Pushing past a couple of others, he came face to face with a young fox boy.

The resemblance was uncanny, the child had a creamy yellow coat of fur, brilliant cobalt eyes which shone with uncommon intelligence, and finally, the one in a million that gave it away instantly, a pair of tails which swished back and forth in rhythm.

"Son, does your name happen to be Prower?" Sonic asked with a raised eyebrow. The youth regarded him a moment before making his cautious reply, he was sure he looked less than trustworthy.

"Is it any of your business?" the fox replied, although with no spite, only with a healthy wariness.

"If it is, I believe I may know a relative of yours... perhaps your father." Sonic explained, gesturing at the boys tails, as if that explained everything.

"You know my father..." he pondered, before re-examining Sonic. He carefully scrutinized him from head to toe, before his eyes brightened and he seemed to decide something, "You must be the hedgehog he always talks about!"

"Ah, so it seems my reputation precedes me... and old Tails hasn't forgotten me. May I see him now?" Sonic chuckled, as all his troubles seemed to leave him. The smaller fox's smile faded, but he nodded nonetheless. Without another word of explanation, he turned and left, with Sonic following closely behind.

After a period of uneasy silence and turning corners, the finally reached the Prower residence. Sonic burst in somewhat noisily, he was excited to be reunited with his little bro after all these years.

"Yo Tails, why didn't you tell me you hung out with these bastards, I'd have dropped by a long time ago!" Sonic said in a loud voice as he came through the door. When a couple seconds passed and he received no answer, he peered around nervously.

"Tails?"

"Who are you and what do you want?" a voice called, but Sonic could not see its owner.

"Is that you buddy? Its me, Sonic, don't you remember me?" Sonic called. A moment later, Tails was in the room.

"My God it is you Sonic!" But the two were no locking in a warm embrace. Sonic only stared at Tails, his mouth agape and his eyes wide. Tails shrugged and replied quietly.

"Its not that big of a deal anymore." Anymore? How long had he been like this?

"Tails... How long?" was Sonic's distant reply. Tails unleashed a length sigh, before slowly answering.

"Three years. I've gotten used to it now. Hardly even realize they're not there." How could his friend Tails be saying these things? There Tails sat, a good strong young man of twenty eight, in a wheelchair, a pair of inhuman stumps where his legs should be. Except for the amputations, he was indeed a striking individual, and it did not surprise Sonic at all that Tails had a child, perhaps child_ren_. The jealousy over the fact that Tails had a son and he didn't would come to him later. For now he was in utter shock.

"What- What happened?" Sonic muttered, turning his head away, he could not bear to look at his intelligent, capable, attractive friend sitting there resigned and legless.

"Battle wound. Got knocked off my feet by a frag grenade. Took one of my legs clean off, shrapnel got in the other. The wound got infected. The limb had to be amputated in the field. No anesthetics." Tails told his story without emotion, as if he were recounting someone else's injuries, not his own.

"Were you compensated?" Sonic mumbled, eyes still wide.

"Generously. I have a pension, and I received a war medal. Honestly, everything is okay my old friend." Tails chuckled, but Sonic's fiery reply soon silenced his mirth.

"No, everything is not okay. In a world where young, strong men have their legs stolen from them in the prime of their lives, everything is not okay. And for what reason? Because they stood for liberty and freedom. And for that, they took your legs. And some damn medal and a check won't ever bring that back. Everything is not okay, nothing is okay." Sonic's rage had slowly died down when he realized that he was screaming at Tails, and not the true culprit. Once again, he vowed to destroy this evil.

"I'm content. One can only move on. It hasn't affected my life that much, I finished my major and now work inventing and building new devices for the Rebellion. As long as there is some way I can help, you can bet I will." Even with the passage of twenty years, the birth of a son belonging to him, and the loss of his legs, when you got down to it, Tails was still fundamentally unchanged.

The main changes it seems were physical; he was still the same old helpful, concerned Tails. Most of those on base called him Miles. Sonic did not ask why. No-one else looked at him differently, so Sonic wondered why he could not bring himself to accept that the strapping individual in the wheelchair was his old friend. He didn't think him and less of a person because of it, but somewhere in his brain, it just wouldn't compute. He couldn't visualize Tails legless then, now or ever. As for himself, he could fairly easily picture himself laying in a coffin, flowers clasped in his hands. Was there no-one left in the world who wasn't broken by the Regime?

* * * * *

The grey sky boiled above Station Square. But they all knew that no rain would fall. A frozen wind whipped through the semi-abandoned streets. The sun could not be seen today. The darkness was too thick. Within the palace, the twisted mind of Shadow was watching and waiting, planning out his next sick plan for maintaining absolute power.

On his way back to the palace was the unsettled Dawn, his massive, curious, purple eyes softly releasing tears of sorrow. His sadness seemed infectious, those citizens who were around him seemed to catch it and begin crying as well. Perhaps the whole world was crying with him.

Just outside the cursed city was the army of revolutionaries, the Rebellion strike forces, led by Nathan and Stevie. The attack was soon to commence. It would not be long now before the hammer fell on Roujin. Within the attack forces, Knuckles considered his priorities. Just this once, he was putting his own ulterior motives above his orders. As long as he secured the Master Emerald, he didn't care about anything else. Sonic was still troubled from his conversation with Tails, and it was plain on his face.

Julie was getting in position. She was utterly prepared, utterly calm. He repeated a phrase to herself over and over, assuring herself: "He'll soon be dead"… again and again.

Meanwhile, the skies grew even darker, and the thunder of weapons sounded in the distance. The attack had begun. Now it was time to perform her duties. It all depended on her. But as she was secretly making her entry to the Royal Palace, she was being keenly observed by a pair of innocent, violet eyes. The night was fallen. Now they simply awaited the dawn.


	5. War

**Chapter 5: War**

Shadow the Hedgehog stared impassively out at the city below through his open window. The drapes were fluttering in the wind, and the morning air was biting against his surprisingly soft fur. The dictator was not in a habit of exposing himself to excessive light, but today he felt the need to clear his mind, and watch. His agents had reported that his son had been using his new found power recently, a revelation that pleased him.

The sky was stretched out like a pale canvas, and the clouds rumbled high above. No rain would come. The grey steel of distant skyscrapers clawed at the horizon, while the smaller buildings sat in their imposing shadows. Shadow took it all in without emotion, like a machine. Perhaps he was a machine, a soulless, inhuman monster, created for no other purpose than imposing terror. His creators would be pleased.

Had he been created with a heart, with a soul? Did any speck of humanity reside within the hollow shell that remained of his former vibrance? He could not say, but if he had to decide, he held to the idea that he did not possess a conscience. Interrupting his musings and irritating him, a high ranking officer burst into the room, concern evident on his face.

"Your majesty, I have terrible news!" he shrieked, his wide jowls shaking with each word.

"This had better be important. I'm in a bad mood today." Shadow snarled, while whirling around to face the officer, who trembled under his piercing glare.

"Um... you see- your majesty, Roujin Fortress is under attack..." the officer began to shake uncontrollably, and eye his king in terror.

"What! Who would dare to threaten my reign?" Shadow growled, his teeth clenching in anger.

"The Sufferous Seven's troops sir... the Rebellion." he finished, while awaiting Shadow's reply.

"Tell my generals to cut off all escape from the city. I want a complete lock-down. Send reinforcements to Roujin, and do not retreat under any circumstances. If we can stall them until the quarantine is up, we'll have them trapped... like rats." Shadow's icy reply rang through the air, and the officer scampered off immediately to pass the word on.

"I have you now Stephen... there will be no escape for you or your group of rag-tag rebels this time. And soon, I shall have your other six friends." Shadow muttered in a low voice, before quickly pacing off to oversee troops maneuvers.

* * * * *

The din of battle was deafening. All of the rebel forces had amassed and attacked a single point in the fortifications, and despite the Regime's best efforts, the wall had been breached. Now, hundreds of insurgents swarmed over the crumbled barrier, and into the dark interior of Roujin. The sounds of bullets and explosions filled the air, and the red glare of fire was everywhere. The concrete of Roujin's walls was cracked and crumbling, and corpses lay strewn about as if they were no more than rag dolls. Vultures made lazy circles overhead, awaiting their feast.

The Regime's soldiers were clad in grey body armor, which protected their abdomen. Most of them carried standard issue assault rifles, and some were manning defensive turrets. Their protective covering did not protect their faces, making the logical place to aim for the head. The Regime's elite guard, the SSG were in shambles, having been taken completely by surprise by the massive Rebel attack. Little did they know that the rebels' goal was not a tactical victory.

The rebels employed the use of traditional weaponry, but in addition to machine guns and bazookas, they also had an arsenal of dart-guns. Many of the Rebels had complained about the use of the weapons before, and Stevie had always explained that the more enemy soldiers they killed, the more the Regime would forcibly draft from the innocent population. He strongly advocated that Regime soldiers were people too, and had even gone so far to say that their only true enemy was the king himself.

While the majority of the garrison was being distracted by the massive attack being mounted on the ground floor, several distinguished specialists were making their way to the core of the base. The entire attack was nothing but a distraction, the main objective was actually to destroy Roujin by planting bombs in strategic locations throughout the base. The smaller bombs would then be triggered by a single nuclear detonation in the very center of the base. The resulting chain reaction would wipe out the entire installation.

Despite his age and stature, Stevie was right in the middle of the action, directing troops and receiving occasional updates from the saboteurs who were setting up the explosives. All the rebel soldiers that could be spared were participating, and any would have been glad to sacrifice their lives for the cause of liberty. A great many did, Roujin was painted red that day, red with the blood of the fallen.

Only two of those who were supposed to be, or supposedly present were not. By all accounts given by those in charge, Julie was right there with them, battling her heart out. Only Commander Stevie, and now Nathan knew otherwise. The other missing soul was Knuckles. The fiery red echidna had slipped away in the confusion and was searching high and low in the base for any sign of the Master Emerald. He could sense it within the fortress, calling out to him, imploring him to come.

_"Save us! We are here! All your lives depend on it," _it said, and he only increased his efforts. The gallant echidna easily dispatched any residual soldiers who crossed his path without even blinking. Except for the dull howling at the back of his mind, Knuckles was completely numb, feeling nothing, and thinking of nothing but his goal. He was a machine, searching, killing, never stopping, as if there never was and would never be anything but his current pursuit.

On the first floor, the Rebel forces were beginning to be overwhelmed by Regime reinforcements, and had been pushed back several hundred feet. The Rebels were surrounded on three sides by the grey, inhuman soldiers, who were interrupted every so often by an elite guard, who were adorned in crimson. Their time was quickly running out, the wrath of the Regime was coming to bear on them. Stevie contacted the commander of his second force, who had brought his troops into Station Square through the sewer system, and was now supposed to be advancing on the Royal Palace.

"Reynolds, we're in a bit of a jam here, how's your operation coming?" Stevie barked above the sound of bullets.

_"Eh, we're not doing too bad, I thought there'd be more of em. Stevie, a question: what do we do if we get to the Royal Palace?"_ the radio crackled in response, and Stevie wavered a moment. Surely, his secondary attack force could not be doing so well! After years of fighting the Regime, a strange habit had overtaken them all. It had begun to be that they seldom worried except when things were going well. It always seemed that when things were going well, the King was only biding his time, waiting to trap them and crush them completely.

"Do not attempt to penetrate the palace under any circumstances. Distract as many troops as possible, create a very large diversion, but do not attempt an attack on the King's Stronghold!" Stevie replied after a moment of thought, before returning to the task at hand.

* * * * *

Knuckles crept silently and stealthily about the dark and deserted hallways of Roujin. The nagging tug of the Master Emerald's resounding call was pulling on his very soul, urging his feet to move, and bring him closer. The vast majority of the enemy soldiers were down below, battling his comrades. Under any other circumstances, he might deem his endeavor cowardly. Usually, personal gain at the loss of others' lives he considered a disgusting thing, but this time it was his ultimate pursuit, his destiny in life.

The crimson guardian knew that if he could not save the emerald, he would die someday... and not of old age. He now believed that it would be better to die in the attempt and be able to say he tried than to die old and bitter, his mission failed. Now might be his only chance, he would have to be a fool to pass it up. The doorways of the fortress seemed far too tall for humans, their tops were about fifteen feet. Unfortunately, each dismal grey hallway looked exactly the same as all the others; it would be easy to get lost in here.

Thankfully, he had the Master Emerald itself guiding him. Albeit somewhat frantically guiding him, but showing him the way nonetheless. Apparently, the gem was hidden in the deepest confines of the structure. Time had no meaning in Knuckles' muddled thoughts, his numb wonderings. When he later recounted the story, he could not tell if it had taken him several minutes or several hours to get there, he had no idea how much time had passed. The others had determined that he could not have searched for more than two hours, but anything was possible outside of that.

Every second that passed he could feel the energy of the emerald growing stronger, and it seemed to indwell his very being. He had not been exposed to the power of the gem for years, and the sensation had become strange to him. It began to cause his head to throb, but his numb determination was so great that he barely felt it. It was as if his body was detached from his mind, and his body was moving on its own, pursuing its goal. His mind was floating up above, watching emotionlessly, as if entranced. His body was very aware of his increasing agony, but his mind couldn't have been more oblivious.

Finally he came to a halt in front of a massive steel door. It rose to about sixty feet tall, and must have stretched at least forty feet wide. He dared not wonder how thick it was. As if to confirm his strong suspicion, the throbbing in his head and the gnawing in his gut seemed to increase ten fold. It would not be long now.

* * * * *

Sonic felt reinvigorated, as if his youth had returned to him. Distantly, he thought that he would regret this in a few hours, but he decided that he didn't care. In an almost suspiciously atypical fashion, his arms and legs seemed to be responding with ease, and he felt as though he were seeing the very world in a new array of colors.

The azure hedgehog nimbly dodged grenades which were lobbed by Regime soldiers, and bellowed warnings about these dangers to any of his comrades who might be nearby. On one occasion when he was feeling particularly reckless, he rushed forward, picked up the grenade, and hurled it back to it's point of origin. The muffled screams which resounded a moment later confirmed it as a kill. It seemed Stevie's initial hesitance to kill Regime soldiers was thrown out the door, they were now battling for their lives. It was exciting to be out of the indoor gloom and on the battlefield. Perhaps Sonic was a born soldier.

Despite once claiming that "he wouldn't be caught dead using a gun", there he was, his knuckles whitened from a firm grip on his rifle. But he didn't just hold it, he employed it. Raising the sights to his eye, he downed one enemy, and then another, each one's head rupturing in a splatter of blood. The floors were already stained a deep crimson, and occasionally, one had to step over the mangled, charred forms that lay dead on the ground. The Rebels had recently begun production on a compact version of the flame-thrower. Apparently, it was being put to good use.

A thoughtless lack of concern for his own safety had overtaken the hedgehog, only thoughts for the safety of others and of detriment of the enemy were in his mind. For the moment, he had forgotten the drafts, forgotten that the soldiers he was killing were people too. To him, they were the enemy, each and every last man was the evil he strove against, and nothing more.

He had been hemmed into a defensive position, and fought alongside a group of five other soldiers, all of whom were facing in different directions in order to cover each other. The Regime did not employ the use of snipers, so they had nothing to fear there... Directly to Sonic's right was a tall, dark haired rebel. His eyes shone a brilliant blue, and he had the face of a poet, as if he belonged not on the battlefield, but on a stage. The whites of this man's teeth flashed as he bit his lip, swallowed a mouthful of blood, and fell to the ground, dead. Sonic stared in shock, the man directly next to him, who one moment had been alive and breathing, now lay lifeless and cold on the ground. A series of bullets had slammed into his neck, rendering him dead in seconds.

Now the four of them remained. The soldier who had originally been to the right of the dead man wavered at seeing his friend fall, and almost looked as if he would cry. Then, anger flashed on his features, and he turned and fought that much harder. To Sonic's left sat two rebels, one whom he had never met, and the other none other than the infamous Commander Nathan.

Nathan was armed from head to toe. Slung across his massive shoulders was row after row of ammunition. Holstered at his sides were dual pistols, and resting on his back was a massive bazooka. Strapped to his stomach was a pair of sub-machine guns, waiting to be used. Finally, his shoulder sheltered the butt of a rather large machine gun, with impressive strength. It was apparently customized, as the initials "N.D.B." were engraved in the steel. The veteran commander surveyed the battle calmly yet fearlessly, and an untamed, almost animal strength resided in his eyes.

His gaze met Sonic's, and without words, communication occurred, a link had been established. At the exact same time, Sonic and Nathan surged out from behind their defenses, firing their weapons wildly at the enemies in front of them. A booming war cry resounded from Nathan's lips, and his muscular legs pulsed with such strength that one would think the earth would tremble with each thundering step. The Regime soldiers returned fire, but their efforts met with no success, none of them could hit Sonic or the massive commander.

Sonic and Nathan leapt into the enemy defensive position, and immediately made quick work of the troops who defended it. Nathan brandished a k-bar, and without a thought, plunged it straight into the throat of the first defender. Sonic turned and cut down a soldier to his right with a sudden burst of bullets, and then spun left, cracking another's skull with a shattering kick. One soldier met his end with the but of Nathan's rifle, which became extremely familiar with his head. A final fleeing officer was slaughtered with a bullet to the back of his skull. The sight of a rebel falling at the hands of the Regime, his innocent blood tainting the ground caused Sonic to remember that he had friends here. Worriedly glancing at Nathan, he spoke in a hushed tone.

"Where is Stevie?" he inquired, but by the way the huge black man looked at him, he thought that he was not going to receive an answer at first.

"Over there, directing the battle." Nathan boomed, while pointing in the ferret's direction.

"What about Knuckles?" The blue hedgehog continued, while intently scanning the chaotic battlefield. A bullet whizzed by his head and he ducked, before returning fire and crouching to listen to Nathan's whispered response.

"Haven't seen him in a good half hour. God only knows what the guy's up to."

"Julie, where did she get off to?" Sonic asked after mentally reassuring himself that his scarlet friend would be okay. Nathan stared at him levelly, as if evaluating him. Then his eyes narrowed, and his lips parted a good second before sound came out, as if he were carefully choosing the exact way he said each word.

"Why the sudden interest?" Nathan said as neutrally and as casually as he could, but he was never a good one for keeping secrets.

"Well, seeing as how I saved her life, I would say we're friends at least!" Sonic replied, while gauging Nathan's responses. Sonic had sensed that something fishy was up, but he wasn't sure to what degree.

"Well... she's um... not here." Nathan found that his throat had suddenly become very dry. He knew he was a horrible liar, but maybe if he simply bent the truth rather than outright lying, Sonic would back down, and nothing would come of it.

"Do you know where she is?" when these words escaped Sonic's lips, somewhere in his being, Nathan knew he had lost. He knew in that moment that Sonic would find out one way or another, and that perhaps if Sonic knew the consequences of the situation, he would understand, and do what was expected of him.

"Yes." was Nathan's simple reply. Just because he had decided that he would not make an attempt at deceiving Sonic didn't mean he was going to burst forth and tell all.

"Well where is she then?" Sonic's irritated reply came back, sealing the secret's doom once and for all.

"The Royal Palace." Nathan's head hung as he said this, and his eyes flicked briefly to Sonic's shocked stare.

"What the hell is she doing there? She'll be killed!" Sonic roared as his head swam.

"She's on a secret mission. She's trying to assassinate the King." Nathan tried his best to calmly explain. Sonic's eyes widened considerably, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"I've- I've got to stop her." Sonic muttered, more to himself than to Nathan.

"What are you doing Sonic?" Nathan yelled, slamming his fists down in frustration.

"You haven't read _the Black Book_, have you?" Sonic growled, before turning around and slipping away before Nathan could even utter another objection. His initial reaction was false indifference. He tried to lie to himself and believe that the fate of one soldier did not matter in the grand scheme of the Rebellion. And yet, Sonic had this air about him... as if he was more than just one soldier. When one was around him, it seemed as though you stood in the presence of a hero. Perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him. Before thoughts of Sonic nearly left his mind entirely, he was reminded of one of Stevie's famous quotes:_ "The Rebellion is made up of nobodies, each one utterly incapable of resisting the Regime on his own. It is only by coming together in brotherhood that we have any chance of victory. Alone, we are nothing. Together, we are everything."_

* * * * *

The dark grey of the Royal Palace loomed above Julie, and glared down at her... almost daring her to make a move. Silently, she crept forward, until she stood directly at the base of the imperious fortress. Wielding a hook-gun, she eyeballed a balcony directly above and prepared to make her shot.

The moment she squeezed the trigger, a metallic snare streaked up to catch on the railing, with a rope attached to it. Flexing her powerful muscles and breathing more heavily, she began to heave herself up the rope. Her lithe arms were surprisingly strong, managing to move her quickly and hold her position above the ground. She looked strangely solid in her footing for someone who was scaling a wall.

The climb was a high one, and the rope began to eat at her palms, rubbing them raw. Despite the chilling winds and cold temperature, she had broken into a sweat. Her pale silver fur stuck to her skin with the moisture. Demonstrating her determination, she gritted her teeth and gave one last heave, pulling herself over the edge and onto the stone ledge. Quickly scanning her surroundings, she determined that there were no enemies around, and holstered her gun.

She had been given only two weapons to complete this task. They couldn't risk losing too many armaments should she fail. To defend herself against any guards she might encounter, she had a high powered, silenced pistol. She prayed she would not have to use it, if she did, it would almost mean certain failure. The sound of the bullet itself would not be heard, but the screams of the soldier would echo a long way in such abyssal corridors. Finally, the weapon with which her grim task was to be completed, the most powerful sniper rifle they had. Its extremely long barrel was slung on her back. The weapon only had three rounds. She would only get the chance to use one.

The rounds were designed to penetrate bullet proof armor, but had not been extensively tested. Their ultimate test remained just ahead of her. It would not be long now.

Julie moved like a cat, totally silent, elegant, and beautiful. Pulling the shaft open, she crawled into the ventilation system. She felt the adrenaline of what she was about to do rise up to drown her, but she forced it back down, refusing to allow herself to be overtaken by her emotions. It was dark in the air conditioning, but she had trained for this. Her eyes had become accustomed to seeing nothing but darkness.

Occasionally she would hear voices, or the footsteps of passing soldiers, and stop moving in order to keep the ventilation shaft from creaking. As they passed under her, she peered at them and listened, seeing if she could pick up any hints as to the king's location. Most of it was useless dialogue.

Her determination grew with every second, it was as if she could feel herself inching closer to her goal, her heart began beating furiously in her chest. Soon her life goal would be complete, she would always be remembered as the _woman_ who brought peace to the world. Always in the history books it was the first _man_ to walk on the moon, the first african american _man_ to be president of the United States, the _man_ who did this, the _man_ who did that. And that's what she was fighting. _The man._

_The man_ is in your TV screens, he's in your schools. _The man_ makes the laws, he fastens the shackles of injustice. _The man_ is that voice whispering in your ear, telling you what to do. He's even in this book. _The man_ is whoever or whatever tries to tell you what to do. Life is not simply the absence of death. Freedom is not simply the absence of injustice. It is something you can feel, something you can touch, something you can live. And in that moment, to Julie, there was no Regime, no Rebellion, no mission, not even a King. There was only her, and _the man_, liberation and oppression. Cruelty and kindness.

And she would give anything for the side of the eternal war that she hoped would win.

* * * * *

Dawn stormed into the palace, his pace quick. He ignored the inquiring glances of the politicians he passed, he didn't care what they thought. His steps echoed on the stone floor, and the noise hung in the air of the giant hall. The chandeliers hanging from the ceiling could scarcely have been grander. Somewhere in Africa, a starving man was living in a miserable hovel.

The young hedgehog's ire was increasing with the second, so that when he reached the elevator which led to the throne room, it almost seemed as if his fingers would drill through the buttons. The tiny white pod was moving far too slowly for his satisfaction, and he made this clear by ramming his forefinger into the button a half dozen more times.

The moment the door opened, he burst forth into his father's abode without another thought, his lips dry and his stomach fluttering. The whole world seemed to be spinning out of control, and perhaps the calm, confident voice of his sadistic father could cure his uncertainties. It wouldn't hurt to try.

Dawn's father shot him a gentle but questioning glance, which he interpreted as permission to speak. His words came out very quickly and rather jumbled together.

"Father, I saw a girl outside, I've never seen a girl that close before. And I never see any girls, and you don't let me see any girls, but you said that I was second in the kingdom, and that I could have anything that I wanted, and I saw a girl outside, and I want her!" Came his rushed request, but Shadow did not seem angry. He looked amused, even slightly intrigued, but his eyes remained cold.

"You're not old enough for girls yet. In a couple years you can have as many girls as you want, you can have your own damn harem for all I care. It's just a little early to be thinking about that son." Shadow's reply was deceptively warm and sympathetic sounding for the flat refusal in his words.

"Please father, in a couple years I can't have_ this_ girl." Amazingly, Dawn and Shadow had completely different concepts of 'having' a girl, Dawn was just lonely, no pervasive thoughts polluted his mind. To put it in plain terms, 'He didn't know where babies come from.'

"Well, perhaps if you were to agree to a certain... compromise... I might be more willing to 'see things your way'…" Shadow drawled, while glancing at his son from the corner of his eye. Dawn seemed cautious, but he nodded, and listened intently.

"You must promise: that you will take up the throne as planned, without resisting, that you will someday produce an heir, and that you will do everything in your power to exterminate the Rebellion." Shadow's eyes gleamed with a devilish light, and Dawn's pupils widened a little at this request.

"...Yes father..." Dawn muttered, his eyes turned to the floor. His hands fidgeted a little, and his father's stare was overbearing.

"Excellent. I knew that you would see the light. Guards! Patrol the outer walls, keep an eye out for a certain girl. If you see her, she is to be delivered _untouched_ to my son's quarters. That will be all." the dictator barked, and then smirked down at his son, seeming rather pleased with both himself and the boy.

In a rare display of affection he stood up from his throne and tousled Dawn's quills, and left him without another word. Dawn looked after his father and smiled. Perhaps it was only his imagination, and things were not as bad as they had seemed. In his distraction, Dawn did not notice that noises emanating from the palace's ventilation system...

* * * * *

The fiery red echidna stood proud and tall, his pride shining in front of him. The door which had barred his progress now lay on the ground as nothing more than piles of dust and shattered pieces of metal. Utterly powerless and useless to stand up against him. No force in the universe could withstand his determination.

Slowly, almost ceremoniously, he began to step forward. His eyes were so set on the emerald that one might guess he was trying to see through it. The room was dark except for the faint glow of dull red lamps, and the flickering of the Master Emerald. Every movement, every sound, every grey, dismal color seemed amplified in the presence of the great gem. Time itself seemed to have little relevance.

Afterwards, Knuckles had no memories of crossing the room to get to the emerald. He clearly remembered starting his journey towards it, and he could recall the moment at which it loomed above him, but the space in-between was strangely empty. Once he was standing below the gem, he placed a single hand on its glistening surface, and allowed a pure surge of power indwell him.

At first, he nearly choked from the sheer power which was coursing between him and and emerald. It had been long since he had been exposed to the effects of direct contact with the great gem... he wasn't used to it. A drop of sweat trickled down his left arm as his brow furrowed in concentration. In order to escape with the emerald, he would have to shrink it... not an easy task.

To decrease the size of the Master Emerald forced the energy within it to occupy less space, and grow more dense. It required a great degree of his concentration to keep it from expanding back to its previous dimensions. It seemed to take forever, it had been too long, and the emerald was resisting his commands. Perhaps the only thing that allowed him to command it at all was his echidna blood, and his status as a guardian.

Eventually, he succeeded in his task of reducing the emerald's bulk and the great gem fit into the palm of his hand. It exuded even more power than before, it was now in a concentrated state. He would have to leave soon, he could not allow his cover to be blown, or the whole Regime army would be after him.

Suddenly, his wonderings were interrupted by the rapping of shoes on the floor, signaling the passing of a patrol. Thinking fast, he jumped and scaled the nearest wall, hiding himself in the dark corner of the room. He had no doubt that he could face them all hand to hand, but in favor of greater stealth and mobility, he had discarded his larger weapon, leaving him with nothing but a pistol.

He decided to simply let them pass. He didn't know that the soldiers had come to move the emerald in case the Rebellion were trying to capture it. The soldiers rushed off to sound the alarm at the sight of the Master Emerald missing, causing him to swear and leap down from his perch.

_"Attention all Rebellion personnel. Make an immediate evacuation from Roujin. Repeat, evacuate from Roujin immediately. Rendezvous at your designated positions outside the fortress. Charges are set, primary objectives are go, and detonation is to commence in t-minus four minutes. Repeat, Roujin's gonna blow in four minutes."_ Knuckles' radio crackled, informing him of his impending doom.

Sputtering curses in disbelief, he immediately began dashing for the exit. He had come so far, he couldn't die now! The passing walls became blurs of grey as he rushed by, and Knuckles ignored any Regime soldiers who would otherwise have warranted an attack. Mentally, he counted off how much time he had left, and fresh swear words rolled off his tongue.

He was beginning to sweat profusely, his nerves were on fire and his muscles were beginning to scream protest at his draining sprint. He ignored their soreness and forced himself onward. At one point he almost stumbled over a piece of rubble, but he stopped himself at the last second.

He came out of the dimly lit hallway into the main docking bay to find utter chaos. Everywhere there were shattered airplanes, with flames licking at their steel bodies. Metal crates and destroyed jeeps were lined up on both ends of the hall to serve as makeshift cover from enemy fire. Laying strewn about on the floor were countless rifles, and grasping onto their handles the bloodied, disfigured bodies of the downed combatants, their wounds oozing blood.

At the far end of the hall, ranks of rebels were running in disarray from the gaping doorway of the fortress, and every now and then one would be picked off by a Regime soldier who still dared to fire at them. Most Regime soldiers were following after them... but it was hard to tell whether they were deserting or pursuing from this distance.

When it became quickly apparent that he was being left behind, and that there were mere seconds before the entire fortress exploded, Knuckles leapt forward and sprinted madly for the bright light of the outside world, but his marathon was cut short as the ground began to shake. A loud boom resounded as a mushroom cloud loomed in the sky. The detonations had begun. It was down to a matter of milliseconds.

* * * * *

Sonic was just beginning to truly enjoy the rush of the wind through his ears when he was surprised by a sudden explosion far behind him. He screeched to a stop and turned around, his eyes wide and his stomach churning.

A couple miles away was the distant Roujin Fortress, an enormous nuclear cloud looming over it, as small explosions peppered its walls. The fortress was crumbling to pieces. Sonic's eyes were wide, and he felt as if he was going to throw up. How many of his friends had been in there when the explosion had gone off...

He was in moral conflict. Go back and help his friends at Roujin, or go to the palace and stop Julie from throwing away her life for nothing. His head was swimming as his pulse began to pound...

The conclusion he came to was a morbid one. If his friends had been in Roujin, they were already dead. There was nothing more he could do for them. There was a chance that Julie was still alive, and that she could be saved!

Sadness engulfed him and devoured him whole as he thought of Knuckles, Stevie, Nathan... all possibly dead. But at the thought of Julie dying... he couldn't explain it. There was this feeling inside him like he was going to crumble and fall apart, just like the fortress. He didn't know why he felt this way, or what had caused it, and at the moment, it wasn't important. It was bad enough that he may have to lose the ones at Roujin, he couldn't lose her as well...

Out of nowhere a thought came to Sonic. In fact, it came to him so suddenly, that he seriously doubted if it was his own thought, namely because it was in second person. It was a voice in his heart, but it was not his own.

_'You already lost Amy because of hesitation. And every person who you stood by and watched as they were dragged away screaming... died of your hesitation. Are you going to allow one more person to die the same way? Are you going to let Julie be killed by your fear?'_ He had no reply for the voice, and for a second considered whether or not he was going insane. Perhaps he was insane. Maybe the very idea that you could be a decent person in an indecent world was insane. If that was true, he wanted no part of their so called sanity.

In that moment, his mind was made up. Looking back sadly one last time at the crumbling form of the one titanic Roujin, he turned and ran, but instead of doing what he'd been doing for all these years... run away from something… he did what he'd become determined to do. To run to someone.

* * * * *

The battalion of SSG, Shadow's secret guard, were marching around the perimeter of the palace, searching high and low, for any sign of the girl. Their orders were clear, and once they were out of hearing of the king, a few of them couldn't stifle a chuckle. 'The king's little runt wanted a toy it seemed' was the prevalent joke at the moment.

No sign of the girl had been seen so far, and unfortunately, the Prince had got a good look at her. He had described her in detail to the troops, and ordered them to come back with none other than her, and not to come back unless they had her. (This seemed to greatly please his father, who awarded the boy a piece of chocolate.)

His description of the girl had been painfully detailed: she stood about three inches shorter than the King, who was roughly four and a half feet tall. Her limbs were lithe and thin, and she had a slim, taut waist... which gave no indication that she starved herself. Her strong legs were adorned in loose camouflage pants (of the grey variety), whose many pockets were all full.

Her cobalt shirt was loose fitting as well; modest, and yet certainly not concealing. It was smeared here and there with dirt smudges, and it was tied up in the back, exposing her sweat covered midriff to the cool air. Her eyes were bluish green, and her full lips had been drawn back in a frown of determination. The pretty female wolf's fur was a shining silver, like a full moon. Finally, she had a ponytail in the back, which was fastened with plain, red ties.

They were all anxious to find her so that they could go back indoors, where it was warm. At the moment, they were willing to try anyone who remotely resembled the Prince's description. But they were looking in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

* * * * *

_Flashback_

_"Julie... I... I want you to kill _him_." Stevie paused to allow his words to sink in, as he looked away from her. "And when you are done... I will have one more mission for you... with you must carry out to the letter."_

"_Sir?" she breathed, the shock of his request not nearly gone._

_"I've enclosed it in this envelope. You are not to open it until he is dead. Will you take the mission? Will you go to the royal palace?" Stevie inquired, with one eyebrow raised._

_"I'll go... I'm just not entirely sure I'm coming back. But why do I get the ultimate honor... vengeance for all this unrighteousness?" she said, eyeing him. She knew he wanted this more than anyone._

_"I'm getting too old for this sort of thing. For years I've acted like a child. Now it's time for me to act my age. I'm fifty three years old. I will not be infiltrating the royal palace, sneaking past dozens of guards, and assassinating the most cruel and powerful dictator the world has ever seen. In the end, it must be someone else. I feel you deserve it the most." he trailed off, glancing at her stone face. His words rung after her, and she winced at her coming task. _

_"Damn does time fly by. It seems just yesterday I was swearing to kill this monster, and in two days I will be." she mused, before pacing slowly off, to prepare for her mission. All their fates hinged upon her success... or failure. She would kill the King... or die trying. _

End Flashback

Today was finally that day. The day she would have her revenge for all those years ago. When she was only a child, the Regime had taken her father, her last remaining family from her. The Rebellion was her family now. And the Regime, the King was her enemy. He would pay for his crimes, and she would have the honor of being the executioner... the one to condemn him.

She could hardly contain her excitement, but she was mindful of her emotions... she couldn't allow herself to lose control of the situation. She crept along in the air vent, slowly moving along, inch by inch. With each passing moment, with each searing drop of sweat that trickled down her lithe form, she was approaching her goal. It would not be long now.

Ahead of her, she saw a silvery light glaring at her through the darkness. Focussing on it, she moved closer, and it grew stronger. She fingered the trigger of her rifle in anticipation of her upcoming momentous shot. It all came down to this. As she cautiously edged closer to the silvery light, she discovered that it was in fact a sky light. The ray of light was the sun, shining through a hole in the roof, into the ventilation shaft, and into the room below. Creeping up to it, she peered at the room which it illuminated.

The room below was terribly dark except for the disc of light which shone from her little hovel. At the far end of the room, there was single, small, pale white door. On the side of the room which was closest to her, there was a mighty throne.

_'Ah, so this is the throne room...'_ she thought to herself, while surveying the room further to see if the King was present. The throne was unoccupied, but she could hear some rapid breathing coming from someone in the room. Could just be a guard. Or maybe not. From the sound of rustling, it soon became apparent that someone was walking continuously, perhaps pacing.

_'Aw... has our little Rebellion attack got the big bad King all worried? Well, I've got something that'll put your mind at ease just long enough for you to reach the doorstep of Hell...'_ came her sassy inner snicker. The room was nearly pitch black, and from the description she'd heard, the King was a black colored hedgehog.

_'Damn, why couldn't he be neon orange or something like that?'_ she complained inwardly, as she put her eye to the sight, and continued to search the room. Finally, the one who was moving stepped into the circle of light in the center of the room.

Surely enough, he was a black hedgehog with a rather strong build, and crimson streaks tearing down his form. He was facing away from her. Almost as if God himself had suddenly decided to make her task easy, he was standing completely motionless.

_'Gotcha.'_ she said as she notched the rifle on him and prepared to fire. _'Strange, I hadn't expected the King to be so short...'_

* * * * *

Roujin erupted one last time in a searing blaze of scarlet flames, and crashed to the ground. Nothing but a pile of rocks, rubble and dust remained of the once mighty fortress. The surviving rebels cowered outside the ruins, and coughed in the dust-cloud. Nathan was rifling through the survivors, frantically searching for Knuckles, who had been inside the fortress when the detonations began. The chances of him getting out alive were a million to one.

And then he heard a sound. A sound so familiar, so utterly endearing that he shed a tear upon hearing it. It was the gruff echidna complaining, bragging, and demanding a cigarette. Nathan surged towards the sound, and forgetting his rank, and his pride, enclosed the echidna in a crushing bear hug. Ignoring Knuckles' gasps of pain, he slowly released him, and the two reported back to Stevie.

"What now Commander?" Nathan bellowed, while directing a quizzical glance at his superior. He had not known about the detonations until the last minute.

"This part of the operation was successful. Most everyone is accounted for. I've just received word that the Regime is quarantining the city, to try to trap us. You know what to do." the esteemed ferret replied. Nathan nodded, and turned to his subordinates.

"Alright everyone, take your squads, and move out. Take shelter in the hidden safe-houses. Set up short range radios, and round up the survivors. Wait there for your orders. On the double!" Nathan gathered the remainders of his personal squad, and the entire rebellion force dispersed, to hide amongst the abandoned houses and businesses of Station Square.

"Nathan, where the hell did Sonic get off to?" Knuckles grimaced as came up next to his commander.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. He's alive, at least for now. May fate bring him and Julie back to us unharmed." he lamented, but unbeknownst to him, he had let a critical detail slip.

"Where's Julie, I thought she was with us!" Knuckles said in disbelief, as he had not been informed of the mission. Thinking fast, Nathan made an icy reply meant to diffuse Knuckles' curiosity with anger.

"You're one to talk, you disappeared right in the middle of the battle! I needed you down there, and you didn't even tell me where the hell you were going! You could've been blown to hell you moron!" At this, Knuckles at first looked shocked, and then hurt. After a moment of eyeing Nathan sadly, he regained his composure, and withdrew into a deadpan stare.

"I had my reasons. I thought by now that you would trust me. Maybe I overestimated the strength of our friendship..." he replied, while staring off into nothingness. Nathan never forgave himself for that lie.

* * * * *

Sonic arrived outside the Royal Palace to find himself in the midst of a graveyard. Contorted, twisted corpses lay in disarray and disorder. Blood was splattered on everything. The walls of the palace, the concrete of the ground, the very sky seemed to be painted with blood. The first color he had seen in the sky for uncountable years, and it was the color of hell, the color of blood.

Hundreds of Rebels had sacrificed their lives here, it had been a slaughter. Surrounding the burning pile of Rebel corpses, there lay an even greater number of Regime solider bodies. Their forms were slumped all over each other, their limbs twisted into sickening, unnatural positions. Surely, Death feasted that day.

Fighting his rising nausea, Sonic glared up at the imposing shadow of the palace. Someone would pay for this injustice. Sonic's veins boiled with pure fury, and his vision turned scarlet. His chest heaved uncontrollably, as his knuckles grew sickly white from his iron grip on his rifle. In that moment, all reason fled from his mind, leaving only the flames of inconsolable rage. The world faded to darkness, and it seemed as if he had been transported to Hell.

The darkness... the fire... the corpses... the death... the suffering... it all returned to Sonic in a moment, twenty years of agony and hatred. It all hit him like a brick wall, and the force of it nearly knocked him over. So powerful was his anger that he shook with spasms of it. He lost all self control. Propelled onwards by his sheer hatred, Sonic rushed headlong up to the door of the Royal Palace, to exact his revenge.

* * * * *

Julie's finger flexed, and squeezed the trigger, causing a boom to follow. However, at the last second before the shot rang out, she gasped suddenly, ruining her aim and causing the bullet to glance harmlessly into the wall. The millisecond before she fired, he had turned to face her, and looked directly at her with gigantic violet eyes.

_'But the King has red eyes!' _was the last thought that entered her mind before her shot went off. Her whole body went numb after the bullet escaped her gun, she had spent her bullet, and that was not the King. The guards in the room did not even hesitate a moment to allow her to escape. They instantly deduced what was happening and rushed forward, their boots echoing on the stone floor. The next moment they had torn her ventilation shaft clean off the ceiling, and to the floor.

Ripping it open, they tore her out, shouting loudly and beating her with nightsticks. She didn't hear them, she didn't feel it, and she made no attempt to resist. All the life had drained from her, she was utterly numb. How? How could she have failed? She had taken every precaution, undergone every step. Even as they dragged her away, they continued to beat her. The hedgehog boy who she had tried to shoot followed after, shouting at them to stop. Apparently he didn't know she was trying to shoot him.

The soldiers ushered him away from her, ignoring his commands to be allowed to go free. Soon, she could not see him any more. The world turned black as a truncheon collided with the back of her head, causing her head to spin as her eyes jolted shut.

When she awoke, the world was so dark and cold that she wondered if she had opened her eyes at all. With a shock she discovered that she was naked, the soldiers had ripped her clothes off in order to humiliate her. Knowing what this meant and mentally preparing herself for whatever was coming next, she stood up.

A dim light flared, allowing her to see her sweaty, dirt and bruise covered form. Her muscles ached, and her head was still unsteady, as if it would fall off her neck. She glanced about fearfully, a dull throbbing echoing in her temples.

Suddenly a pair of soldiers opened a door, allowing light to spill into her cell. They walked in, staring at her perversely, and she glared at them and tried to cover herself as best as she could. Then, between them appeared the form of a hedgehog, whose fur was as black as night itself. But this was not the gentle eyed boy who she had seen before. This was the King. Surely, a more cruel and hateful stare could not exist in the entire world.

It seemed time had stopped as he stared at her. His eyes travelled up and down her form, but not in lust or desire, but out of pure contempt. She did not think he wanted to rape her, it looked as if he wanted to kill her. She pretty much felt the same way about him.

She had so much hatred for this cruel being, the one responsible for the sufferings of the world itself. Every child left an orphan, every mother whose baby is never born, every son whose father dies fighting tyranny... he had caused it all, and all because of his own greed and arrogance. The fear of his imposing presence had added impotency to her rage, but still, such ice lingered on.

Finally, he turned to the guard to his right.

"She's the one." he said in a cold, small voice.

"Yes your excellence. We found her in the air vents. She tried to assassinate the Prince sir."

Prince? The gentle eyed boy she had almost shot was this monster's _son_? She had no doubts that this dictator had his own personal harem of concubines, but somehow, Julie could not register that this cruel, malignant creature could spawn life, could create something. Surely he would kill any son a woman bore for him.

And even if it were not so, how could his son, the son of this tyrant, appear so docile, even concerned for her safety when she had tried to kill him? It seemed unreal to her.

"Another thing sire..." the guard trailed off, as if unsure of himself.

"Speak fool, stop blathering like a retard." Shadow frowned, while impatiently awaiting a reply.

"She also fits the description that the Prince gave us. She's the one he wants?"

"Oh, this is just too perfect! Why didn't you inform me sooner?" Shadow snickered, while eyeing her more intently. "Yes... she is a fine specimen... but I won't give her to him just yet... after all, his birthday is just around the corner, isn't it." The hatred and perversion in the glare of the King was so great, so overbearing, that it brought the strong rebel to tears.

"There'll be plenty of time for tears later my dear. Nobody touch her. Move her down to Block 1, but make sure she's... comfortable. And make sure that General Barret knows of the arrangements." With one last appraising stare, the King was gone, leaving her with the two ruffians. They stepped towards her, truncheons in hand, their shadows blocking out all light. The next thing Julie knew, a needle sunk into the tender flesh of her bare thigh, and the world went black.

* * * * *

Death. Corpses. Blood. Revenge. Sonic's mind was working in broken, furious thoughts as he slaughtered the Regime's soldiers. More and more came at him, but he extinguished the life of every last one without a thought.

Occasionally, his mind would flicker back to his original purpose, Julie, but it would only fuel his despair and hatred, and put him back on the path of senseless destruction. Ammunition, time, and human life meant nothing to Sonic. He was knocked somewhat back to his senses when he narrowly missed being turned to a puddle of blood by a grenade, which caused a burning ringing in his right ear despite the fact that it had not succeeded in killing him.

Angrily firing off three shots at the soldier who threw it, he dashed for another piece of cover, as a droplet of sweat trickled down his side. Sonic had completely forgotten the weariness that his age had brought, it was just like the old days, fighting evil, the glory of it. Back then, he was a famed hero. Now his closest friends barely remembered his face. How long would it be before he was completely forgotten.

But he would not let that happen. Whether it was by finding some way to kill the King, or whether it was by dying trying, he was determined to go down in history as a hero. The chilling words of the King's _Black Book_ revealed that the King was involved at one time with a top secret military program, and that he was for all practical purposes, immortal.

When one followed such a train of thought, the futility of an assassination mission soon became clear. But at the moment, Sonic's rage overwhelmed him. He wasn't thinking of saving Julie's life, or even of his own selfish desires. All he wanted in that terrible moment was revenge.

All his hurts and wounds gushed freely, but not just his anger at the King, his anger at the Regime. Also his anger at himself. Anger that he had let Amy die, anger that he had stood by and watched the cruelty of the Regime's oppression for years while his friends were losing their legs in battle, anger that even still he felt as if he could do nothing to stop it. He could almost see the King's terrible face, his fanged teeth curved in a demonic smile. His terrible, arrogant laugh, and his cruel, black eyes.

His entire being cried out in fury. When finally the storm of battle died down around him, he gained a piece of his sanity, and realized that he'd just slaughtered an entire platoon of soldiers. Adrenaline surged through his veins, and his breathing was labored. Kicking down a door to his right, he stumbled into a quiet room, which was bathed in light from a pair of giant, naked windows.

He had come into the palace library. But that did not catch his notice. He was shocked, his eyes were wide, and his mouth hung open even as he lay on the floor. He could not even find words. His surprise was so great that he nearly forgot his previous rage. There, standing before him was Shadow the Hedgehog.

"But I- I thought you were dead!" Sonic stuttered, as he lifted himself off the floor. Shadow silently stared at him, a sneer of distaste curving his lips. His eyes were blank, emotionless.

"Don't you remember me?" Sonic asked, worried that his friend was suffering from his amnesia. After a long silence, the crown-less King replied.

"…You moron. You just couldn't leave well enough alone, could you. Somehow I always knew you'd try something stupid like this."

"Well, now that we're both here, we can work together!" came Sonic's excited reply. The faintest hint of a smirk appeared on Shadow's lips, but it disappeared the next moment.

"Sadly, I don't think you'd be interested in my line of work..." Shadow gave a cold chuckle, while staring Sonic down.

"Why's that?" Sonic raised a brow, he was under the impression that Shadow was a lone wolf as he'd always been, living away from the Rebels... but a Rebel himself. Shadow's icy resounding laugh chilled Sonic to the bone, and his frozen glare sent a chill down his spine. He was different... He was...

"I'm the King." Complete and utter disbelief. Denial. Never. Not in a million years, the heroic, brave, and caring hedgehog Sonic had known. Shadow had always given the appearance of a cold, self-centered individual, but those who knew him knew that this was a façade. But as Shadow's deathly stare washed over Sonic, I his heart, he knew it was the truth.

Before he could react, Shadow's hand shot out to clutch Sonic's throat, and lift him off the ground. Struggling for breath against the crushing force pushing against his delicate windpipe, Sonic could feel his eyes bulging in his head. He begged for mercy, panted and grappled at Shadow, but the tyrant's grip would not loosen. His cold, hard fingers removed themselves from the hero's throat only once he was unconscious.

"And now to get the rest of your pathetic friends. Let the war begin."


	6. Famine

**Chapter 6: Famine**

When he finally regained his consciousness, Sonic found himself fully restrained. His arms, legs, and neck were securely fastened to the mattress of steel on which he lay. His limbs and joints burned from yesterday's exertion, and his stomach twisted in a bout of nausea. The room was almost totally dark.

He struggled against his bonds, but they were strong, and would not budge. He was covered in bruises, and the rich blue of his fur was mixed with the dark crimson of his own blood. Then, he felt a presence behind him in the dark. In the midst of the blackness as deep as hell, he heard a hissing voice echo forth.

"So you are the once famed hero of earth. And now you're just a lowly member of a pitiful rebellion. It's a pity Sonic, you held such promise." the voice belonged to Shadow, but Sonic simply could not picture the Shadow he knew speaking with such vehemence, such malice. A hand came to rest on his shoulder, as a pair of scarlet orbs came to glare at him.

"You could've served me, but you wallowed in filth as a nobody for twenty years. I was beginning to wonder if you were dead." the dictator's voice was flat, devoid of all affection and warmth.

"No... it's you who are dead! You're not the Shadow I knew. I don't believe it!" Sonic gasped, his eyes widening. Shadow released his shoulder, and stood directly in front of him. Curving his fingers around Sonic's chin like a scolding parent does when they discipline a disobedient child, he scoffed. He glared contemptibly at him, with such cold eyes that it seemed they could freeze Hell.

"I have been reborn. You've changed as well. The whole world has changed, reorganized."

"You've gone insane! Stop this madness, you are not the evil that I fight. It cannot be! What the hell happened to your promise to Maria?" Sonic shouted at the top of his lungs. Shadow whirled around, fury in his eyes. His fist slammed into Sonic, cracking a rib as it did. Searing white pain tore through his body, and a scream erupted from his parched lips.

Still Shadow was not done, he gripped Sonic's arm, and with clenched teeth, made his reply.

"Don't you ever speak her name again, you unworthy piece of shit! I know what is best, and a wretch such as you should not dare question my authority!" as he spoke, Shadow twisted Sonic's arm, slowly, one inch at a time, until a sickening crack resounded in the chamber.

Sonic fought back tears, but they came anyways. Shadow's fist pounded into him again and again, each blow harder than the last. More blood. More bruises. His head began to spin. His whole world revolved around pain, unequalled agony.

Finally, it was over. There was not silence. His ears rung, and his breathing was labored as he coughed up a mouthful of blood mixed with vomit. Shadow did not seem as if he was nearly done, only that he had restrained himself in order to stop himself from killing Sonic. Shadow's chest heaved from the toll his rampage had taken on him, and his knuckles were sore from the repeated impacts. Drops of blood had sprayed onto him, and from his utter lack of composure, he looked very un-kingly.

Turning on his heel without a word, the despot roared one last time before he left Sonic alone, bleeding in the darkness.

* * * * *

Julie struggled vainly against the rope that bound her hands together. She was being led against her will down a dark corridor, but just as the King had commanded, they had not laid a finger upon her except to keep her moving.

They were traveling down a dark stairway, flight after flight of stone steps, spiraling into an eternal abyss. By now, she had gotten over the shame of her nakedness, only anger remained. It seemed as if an eternity passed, and if the rough tug of her rope had not been guiding her she would have wandered aimlessly.

And then, it was over. She exited the stairway through a tiny metal door, and the guard behind her pushed her so that she fell to the ground. Julie looked about at her surroundings in awe and horror. Never had a more terrible sight passed before her eyes.

She was sealed under the earth in a giant, concrete box which blocked out all sunlight. As far as the eye could see through the gloom, it stretched on and on. In that pit, there were row after row of ramshackle barracks, with excavations dispersed intermittently. Everywhere she looked, downtrodden, pale faced prisoners in striped uniforms stumbled about, slaving onwards.

Her bare, sweaty body was now caked with dust, and she started to tremble. This was a modern concentration camp. And it put Auchwitz to shame. Giant billows of smoke from the crematoriums gathered at the ceiling, to escape through a single, massive chimney.

The very world was silent except for the crunch of gravel under the boot of the approaching soldier. He tugged on the rope, but she was too terrified to move, she remained frozen there. When his second tug met with no success, the two soldiers picked her up. One of them grasped onto her legs, while the other looped his hands under her armpits, and uncomfortably close to other notable and nearby features.

No matter how much she screamed and kicked and squirmed, they refused to let her go. She was being carried into one of the buildings off to the side, and terror seized her heart. What were they planning to do with her?

They barged through the door and threw her to the floor, locking the door behind them and pointing their guns at her. There were four other soldiers standing in the room, and the four of them came at her all at once, pinning her wrists and ankles roughly to the cold floor. She struggled with all her might against their hold, but she earned only a snide remark.

"Well this is a feisty one... and a sexy little bitch too. He'll have a good time with this one."

"Don't even think about touching her! If the King finds out that one of us tried it with her... it'll be more than our heads. We'll find ourselves tied to a torture chair in Block 11 before we can so much as blink."

So she was being saved apparently. The idea that she was going to be raped later instead of now brought little comfort to her. Stevie's words returned to her.

_Flashback_

_"I must warn you, this mission will be extremely dangerous. If you are caught, you will be tortured, you will be raped, you will be executed. I will not hold it against you if you refuse." _

_"You know I like to live in the fast lane." she smirked, ready to prove herself to them all._

_End Flashback_

She had failed them all. In some way, she deserved what was coming to her. Because of her, that cruel monster was still on his throne. The end of the soldiers' brief conversation on whether or not to forcibly rape her pulled her back into the present, it seems the superior officer had ordered his men not to violate her sexually.

Her struggles continued, and they continued to pin her to the ground. The commanding officer pulled a box off a shelf, and out of it came a pair of hair clippers. He approached her, and the blade hummed to life.

Without even acknowledging her pleas to stop, her began to shave her. Her shining, milky silver fur fell off in huge clumps, leaving her skin bare, and covered in goose flesh. The razor bit into her skin, he was pressing hard to make sure and get every last hair. He showed no mercy, not even letting up as he passed by the more delicate areas...

Soon, her top side was bald, revealing the full extent of her bruises. Roughly, the soldiers flipped her over so that she was lying on her face, and one of them started pushing her face into the floor.

"Don't damage her too much. The King won't be happy if his gift is ruined before it's even sent." the officer barked as he shaved her backside, and scooped all the fur into a single massive pile. Julie's silky coat was gone. Next they pulled her off the ground, and thrust her into a dirty little shower. The water was searing hot, and burned against her bare skin. When she had been under the boiling water for two minutes, they ripped her out and toweled her down./ppSo great was her humiliation, she felt as if she would die. The perverse leers, the utter powerlessness. They could do anything they wanted to her, and she could not stop them. As they were drying her off, one of the men begged to be allowed to stroke her, just for a little while. The officer cautiously obliged, and the others held her still as he fondled her. Surely, if there was a Hell on earth, this place was it.

* * * * *

Julie and Sonic had not returned to their assigned rendezvous points with everyone else, and a great enough time had elapsed now that Stevie knew that Julie had failed, and Sonic had failed to save her. This made things considerably more complicated. While they had been waiting for them to report back, the entire city had been placed under a strict quarantine, and mobs of soldiers overran the streets. They were simply laying low... for a very long time.

For now, Stevie had assured everyone that he had everything under control, and that he was concocting a plan to rescue Julie and Sonic at that very moment. That was half true. He did not have everything under control.

He had discussed it a bit with Nathan, and they had reviewed the facts. It was very possible that one, if not both of them, were dead. It was certain they had been captured. Where they would both be sent was certain as well. Typically, the Regime sent its prisoners to the nearest Prison Camp, but the average person didn't know of the existence of the cursed places.

Many of the Rebels did not even know about them. In order to hide them, the Regime placed them underground, and nestled them underneath impregnable fortresses. The most extensive lay underneath the Royal Palace itself, and that was surely where Julie and Sonic were both headed. There, in the darkness and the filth, humans became cattle, as slaughter reigned. Rats, fleas, and lice infested thousands, as rampant starvation killed just as many as the executions.

But the prisoners were not just there to systematically exterminate them... it was a sick social experiment. The King was a twisted, evil being, who considered carnage a form of entertainment. Conditions within the camp served the dual purpose of killing off dissenters, and seeing just how much it took to make a son betray his father for a crust of bread.

The prison underneath the palace consisted of eleven prison blocks, and was roughly the size of four times the area of Manhattan. It was estimated to contain over two million rebels, criminals, and victims of the Regime's cruelty. If the oppression of the soldiers was bad on the surface, then it was a thousand times worse within the camp. With a few exceptions, a soldier did not even have to give a reason to make an execution. They withheld food from prisoners they didn't like, took the women as they pleased, and the prison's "doctor" was a sadistic maniac who picked his patients apart bit by bit.

As you moved deeper into Hell, things got worse and worse. Finally, when you arrived in Block 11, it was like stepping within the gates of Death itself. Block 11 was known for never being full. There were enough deaths that they could never fill it. It was considered better to die by bleeding to death over a course of hours than to spend a minute in that cursed block.

The other rebels could not imagine the torments that Julie and Sonic were facing at that very moment... but Stevie could. He had been there... nineteen years ago, when the camp was not quite finished yet. They were already using it. He still had nightmares.

* * * * *

They had shaved him bald. They had thrown a filthy uniform on him, and then tattooed a number into his arm. And then they had hurled his broken, bruised body into the barracks, where they told him he would receive one day off... before he was expected to work like everyone else.

The soldiers were barred from killing or torturing Sonic, under orders from the King. That was his privilege. He slept upon a bed of straw with three other people. He was dying inside at the thought of what Julie must be enduring.

Sonic's day of rest passed by like a flash, there the next moment and gone the next. Soon he was out working with the other prisoners in his barracks. To Sonic's disgust and horror, it was just as gloomy outside as inside.

The sky was sheathed over with a concrete shadow, and everywhere he turned, on and on for miles, barracks, soldiers, prisoners, mines... it was endless. The dust was dry and grainy from years without rain, and according to the other prisoners the only way out of the terrible place was through the narrow, winding stairs he'd come from. And that was heavily guarded.

If food was scarce while he was living under the Regime, now it was nonexistent. Cold, watery, meatless soup, and stale crusts of old bread were delicacies. The prisoners were each allotted a shower once every month. Soap was rarer than gold.

From what the other prisoners told him, he was in Block 4, a relatively safe block... but it was crucial not to be transferred to a higher level. There was no way to concoct escape plans of any kind, limitations of the light restricted prisoners from being able to clearly see unless they were working.

In his barracks there was a father and son who had managed to be placed in the same quarters. It was heart wrenching, every day, the elderly father would give up a portion of his own rations to his teenage son, with the explanation that we was still growing. Bitterly Sonic wondered what the old man was helping him to grow for. What good was it to grow when the only existence that awaited you was this?

Even still his mind was numb from the realization that Shadow, the friend he knew from years ago was the King. The evil he strived against, the very darkness hanging above his head, the terror in his heart and the hunger in his belly. It was Shadow. Somehow this only caused him to hurt even more, and wonder what could have changed his friend so much. This thought haunted him for days.

* * * * *

Dawn could have sworn his heart stopped the moment he heard the gun shot. At first he thought that one of the soldiers was shooting at him, but when he looked, the soldiers were tearing down the ventilation shaft, and hauling the girl out. They must have seen her, and shot at her.

His protests were unheeded, despite his angry insistence that he was second in the Kingdom. He had bided his time for a day, and had not seen the girl since the soldiers carried her away. It was time to get to the bottom of this, and for once, get what he wanted.

The thought that kept returning to his mind was a furious question. 'What was she doing in the Royal Palace?' Dawn had never seen a member of the opposite sex in the palace, and he had no idea what she could possibly be doing in there. One thing he did know is that she was trespassing, and the guards were not fond of trespassers. The door to the officer's quarters slid open at the contact of his finger on the sensor panel. Since his "promotion" he had been given free access to every room of the palace but one, including the soldier's habitation quarters.

When he stepped in, the soldier, who was out of uniform, leapt up and stood at attention, straight and tall, his face made of stone.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, my Prince?" the officer who had overseen Julie's capture had a hunch the prince would not be happy with him, but he was prepared to face it.

"I have a question for you. You will answer it in a prompt, direct, and accurate manner, or there will be dire consequences. Am I clear?" Dawn's new power was beginning to get to his head a little, although admittedly, he just wanted a straight answer out of the soldier.

"I understand perfectly well your grace. Proceed with your question sire." he replied, and all the while, nothing but his lips had budged. Dawn considered putting him at ease, but decided against it.

"Yesterday, a certain female wolf was ripped out of the ventilation above the Imperial Throne Room, and apprehended by your soldiers. Did I not instruct that she be brought directly to me the moment she was found?" Dawn was not at all intimidating sounding, despite the harshness of his words.

"You did indeed, sire." the guard's eye twitched just a hair, but it twitched nonetheless.

"And where is she now?" Dawn tapped his foot impatiently, and crossed his arms. He had none of his father's authoritative fury, but in his own spoiled little way, he was demanding.

"She's been sent to Block 1 of Camp Alpha. You may visit her if you would like to." the soldier trailed off, as if sensing that he'd said something he shouldn't have.

"Yes, I would like to be taken to see her immediately. And mark my words captain, if your men harmed her, my father will hear of if." Dawn said with a confident smirk. He had to see her, had so many questions to ask that only a person from _outside_ the Regime could be trusted to answer. In some sick, twisted way, she was his only hope of normalcy. But his father had other plans...

* * * * *

The stifling darkness had consumed Sonic the Hedgehog. The air was hot and stuffy underground, the concrete effectively insulated in all the heat. A few days had passed since he had originally assaulted the Royal Palace and learned that the King was none other than his old friend Shadow. That revelation caused him to boil with rage and bleed with hurt simultaneously.

In the distance there were some obscure, shimmering lights, most likely flashlights carried by guards. Here in the mine, there was only enough light to work by, and the soldiers kept a close eye on them. For a moment, Sonic thought he saw the flash of a familiar face, but the next second it disappeared. Perhaps he was losing his mind.

It only increased the torment in the labor to know that all the fruits of his servitude would only further empower the Regime. But one could not stop working. If you stopped, the guards would beat you until you relented or you died. It was your choice. Those who were able kept working.

After a period of several hours of menial slavery, they were finally given a thirty minute break. The soldiers herded them up above the mine, and commanded them all to sit. A lantern was placed in the middle of their formation so that they could see, and the group breathed a sigh of relief. They had no idea how much time really passed, they had only the soldier's word.

No clocks. No sun. No moon. No stars. Time faded away into nothingness. Day had become night, and night had become eternal. Always rushing about, from one task to another, sparsely distributed with meals and sleep every now and then. Sometimes the soldiers kept the prisoners up for a period longer than twenty four hours without letting them sleep, and insisting that the day was not yet done. There was no way of telling that they were lying.

Sitting next to Sonic was a sharp eyed man, who was looking straight at him. As with all the prisoners, the man had short, buzzed hair, that was mouse brown. His lower lip was quivering, as if he was whispering a dark incantation. His chest was bare, and contained a few sinewy, corded muscles of no extraordinary size. Finally, strapped to his thigh was a book of some sort, worn from years of use.

"What's your name?" the man asked, in a warm and light voice.

"Sonic. Why should you care?" the man had expected Sonic to reply by asking him his own name, and was stunned by his rude and careful reply.

"Hmph. Well, don't you suppose death camps have their chaplains too? I'm the local preacher. I like to familiarize myself with all the new prisoners. I'm Carter in case you cared." he drawled, and continued to stare at Sonic. After enough time had passed that Sonic realized he wasn't going to leave him alone until he had engaged in conversation with him, he replied.

"Preacher huh? I bet you have lots of funerals to do down here."

"No funerals. They won't allow it. I don't perform any services you see..." Carter's voice lowered to a whisper, " I'm not a licensed minister. I've just been down here with this here bible for so long, I've got the whole thing practically memorized."

As he said this, Carter indicated the worn book proudly, and Sonic smirked slightly. Then, gripping his attention and pulling it away from Carter, something caught his eye.

"Hey, look back there. Who's that?" Sonic pointed. There, making his way through the camp, with a procession of soldiers in tow, was Dawn. The resemblance between him and Shadow had caught Sonic's eye immediately, and his curiosity flared.

"Him? Oh, that's the Prince. But he doesn't come down here very often, doesn't like the place. Poor kid, his daddy's cruelest King of the most tyrannical empire to ever exist, and he's gonna have that riding on his shoulders the rest of his life even if he's the gentlest, kindest soul to ever grace heaven's shores."

"The Prince... you don't mean... he's Shadow's son?" Sonic balked. He knew that way back when, Shadow had hidden feelings for Rouge, but he thought that he knew that Shadow had never acted on them. The question of the child's mother immediately rose to his mind.

"Is that the King's name? I suppose it makes sense." Their conversation was cut short as the soldiers ordered them back in the mine. Sonic stole one last glance at the young prince before he disappeared into the mouth of the cavernous hole.

* * * * *

All that existed was pain and blood. Shadow had given the soldiers permission to torture Julie, as long as they didn't use blades, and there was no permanent scarring. They had enthusiastically complied. Her hands and feet were tied to the floor and ceiling respectively, suspending her bruised, shaved, naked form in mid-air.

At current they were doing such uncreative things as beating her with clubs and rocks. But their methods were effective. It was incredible, they were not asking her questions, not demanding her compliance or trying to break her, they simply wanted to inflict pain on another creature.

After awhile only one soldier remained, the same one who had fondled her earlier. Now he was simply punching her... obviously he wasn't the intellectual type.

At that moment the door clanged open, and the officer responsible for Julie marched in with Dawn following closely behind. Dawn's eyes narrowed at the sight before him and the officer fidgeted nervously. The soldier who had been torturing her simply looked dumbly at Dawn, his fist still clenched, and smeared in her blood.

Julie looked wearily up at Dawn, but her muddled thoughts were having trouble recalling who he was. Dawn's voice was a low growl much akin to his father's voice when he made his angry command.

"Get out. Now."

"But my lord, she is dangerous, and to be under constant guard-"

"She's fully restrained and incapable of even holding her head up straight, I command that you leave us." Dawn snarled, while glaring angrily at the soldier. His patience was wearing thin.

"Yes my lord. Mind you, his majesty has ordered that she is not to be released... take that up with him sire." the officer replied as he ducked out of the room. They were alone. Dawn approached her cautiously, and in awe. Seeing that she was covered in blood, he wet a cloth and wiped some of it off. By the time he had finished cleansing some of the more serious wounds, she was capable of rational thought.

"What are you doing?" she said, while staring down at him. She had a gnawing feeling in her gut, and she knew that if this little hedgehog was a thing like his father, she should be very afraid.

"You're hurt. Don't you worry, I'll make sure they pay for this. What's your name?" Julie looked surprised at this, and after staring skeptically at him a moment longer, resigned herself to allowing him to clean her off.

"My name is Julie. You're the King's son?" When she asked this, Dawn looked ashamed, and ignored the question.

"I'm Dawn. I would let you go, but I can't... I'm sorry." he sulked, furrowing his brow in an endearing way.

"Why's that." she was in an uncomfortable position, but at the very least she knew now that even if the boy was not good, he was certainly better than the soldiers. Getting on his good side could prove advantageous.

"Well, my father made you his personal prisoner. Nobody but him can give the order to release you. Why were you trying to get into the castle?" Dawn asked curiously, as he put away the rag and began to study her in earnest.

His mind was not yet corrupted, but even his pure thoughts took a dark turn at the sight of her bare form. He now had a couple more things to add to his list of things that set female apart from males (assuming of course that all females shared the same traits as her).

"Um... well..." she couldn't very well tell him the truth now could she? "I was trying to steal food from the kitchen."

"Oh. Are you hungry?" Dawn's boyish smile flashed, but the look on Julie's face suggested that she didn't think he could get her anything.

"What, you don't have confidence in me? Watch this." he smirked, turning to the door, "Guards! Come here at once!" When the officer and his lackey were standing in the doorway, he eyed them a moment, and rigged off his request.

"I'd like something to eat. Some fruit, some meat, and some bread. Bring it to me immediately. That will be all." he ordered with an imitation of his father's bored hand wave.

"Why are you helping me?" Julie asked curiously, while looking at Dawn interestedly.

"Well, I've never had a friend from outside the palace before. You know, I've never had a friend inside the palace either. It's so boring and gloomy in there, I just want someone to talk to." he half pouted, while keeping a couple of his reasons concealed. For some reason, when he considered telling her about his... interest in her in a more than friendly way, his thumping heart convinced him not to go through with it.

Mere moments had passed before a soldier returned with a plate of food, which he took and then half slammed the door in the guard's face. Unfortunately, her hands were still tied, so Dawn helped her by feeding her like one would a baby. She was terrifyingly hungry, so she didn't even think about complaining.

"Well, it looks like I'm not going anywhere. Might as well talk to you as any of those sickos." she remarked, causing Dawn to smile.

"Don't worry Julie, I'm going to talk to my father and get him to release you. And I'll make sure those soldiers don't do anything like this to you again. However, I'll do it all on one condition."

"What's that?" her tone held a note of apprehension... what did he want from her?

"You have to promise to be my friend forever. Okay?" Julie looked at Dawn amused and warmed all at the same time.

"I most certainly will! Is there anything else you want to ask me?" she replied enthusiastically, while cocking her head to the side.

"Well... okay, but only if you'll ask me some questions too." Dawn smiled and had the soldiers release her from the torture bonds, and bring her a blanket to cover herself with. He claimed that it had simply slipped his mind, and he seemed innocent enough, so she accepted this explanation.

"What is it like outside the city?"

"Well, there are green, grassy fields that are covered with dew in the cool mornings, and if you get far enough into the country, you can see patches of the blue sky. There are massive groups of enormous trees, ten times the size of the ones here in the city, and they stretch for miles and miles. There's rippling rivers that fill up with fish, and the you can stick your toes in and swim in."

"It sounds wonderful... your turn." Dawn was staring dreamily off into the distance, imaging the settings she was painting.

"First, how old are you?" Julie smirked, he could not be older than twelve.

"I'm almost fourteen." Dawn remarked proudly, while giving the most adult and manly grin he could muster.

"Really? I'd thought you were older." she lied. She was beginning to find Dawn interesting, but she needed to butter him up if she wanted to use him as an effective ambassador to the King. She wasn't sure yet what she was planning to do, but she knew this was too great an opportunity to pass up.

When Dawn left he ordered that she be given her clothes back, and double rations. He also threatened terrible things upon any soldier who so much as laid a finger on her. His father would have been proud. After he was done giving his angry command to the soldiers, he went to consult his father. Surely, his father would hold true to his promise and let him have Julie for his friend.

How innocent is the mind of an untainted child. But for how long can it remain that way? With all the hatred, immorality, and death in the world, it is not long before the pure, perfection of birth withers away to the cold, cynical perversion of adulthood.


	7. Death

**Chapter 7: Death**

The blood pounded in his ears as a shot rang out. Dozens of battered forms hit the ground, and trembled in fear. A cloud of dust was thrown up from the sudden activity, and he nearly choked from it. A shrill scream echoed from behind him, and his blood froze. Someone was just executed.

When the thin, bloodied bodies of those around him began getting up, he did the same. It was like standing amidst an army of walking corpses. The hollow eyes of the prisoners held only death. But Sonic could not find any tears. He had already shed them all.

He trudged forward, and when his eyes met a familiar face, he did a double take to be sure it was really her. Standing not three feet away from him was Julie, her fur buzzed short, and an unflattering, striped uniform on her. After a moment's though he realized that he looked the same.

"Sonic? What are you doing here?" she asked dumbly as she stepped closer to get a better look at him.

"I heard its lovely in the prison camps this time of year, and I decided to drop in." he grinned, but apparently she didn't think it funny.

"Alright, fine. I came to rescue you, and I got captured." he explained.

"Good job." she replied flatly, but secretly, she treasured the return of rebel camaraderie.

"Got any plans about how to get out of here?" he glanced around and led her to a more secretive location.

"No... but I'm working on it. I'm sure we'll think of something together."

For the next several days, Julie and Sonic explored all of the lower levels of the camp, and employed the help of Reverend Carter as a guide. He was amiable, and provided good company, if one could endure his preachy side. Every other day or so, Dawn would return and confide with Julie, allowing his curiosity of the outside world to run rampant.

He always made sure she was treated well, and if she wasn't, a death glare that could only be inherited from his father would frighten the soldier into question. She received special treatment, but she didn't seem to notice, and over time, she and Dawn became less and less aware of the fact that she despised his father more than anything else in the world.

Before long Sonic and Julie's fur began to grow back, but it was still much shorter than it had been before, and it was nearly perpetually dirty. For awhile, it seemed as if the worst evil held by the Valley of Death, as it was called, was boredom.

Just as they were coming to this conclusion, it happened. A rebel group within the camp that had been plotting an escape was discovered. The whole camp was to be filed out, and stand in lines stretching on for miles, as the perpetrators were executed.

This was undoubtedly a trap, designed to compel any other bold prisoners to action. But in some disturbing, chilling way, this was just like before. Just like the arrests where he stood by. Nothing had changed. Perhaps it never would.

He stood by silently as the "criminals" were herded into the gas chamber, whose walls were made of thick, transparent glass. They were close to the execution, and forced to watch the whole ordeal. Their gasping, choking forms writhed over each other, fingernails clawed at the glass walls. Their eyes, those terrible eyes, staring accusingly at him even as they melted out of their sockets. The poison took twenty minutes to kill them.

Somewhere along the endless column of prisoners there had been some resistance, as screaming and shooting now filled the air. The shots lasted until the tortured forms in the gas chamber stopped moving. Then, there was silence. Guards threw open the doors of the execution chamber and began dragging the bodies out, and piling them in a massive, crude heap, like garbage.

The corpses from the massacre were combined with those from he execution, and sprawled all over in he hideous pile. But the most horrible part was that as he was witnessing this horrific sight, Sonic found he could not cry, could not be moved to pity. The only thing that welled up inside him was hatred.

His heart burned with a desire to fight, but seeming to sense his apprehension, Julie squeezed his hand tightly, as if pleading with him not to do anything foolish. But wasn't it reckless heroics that made him save her from the police agents? Wasn't it blind courage that caused him to join the rebels, to try to save her? Then the Regime had won. Down here, in the Valley of Death, there was no rebellion, no life.

This place was ruled by death, every aspect of life pervaded by it. And the ruler over it was the god of Death, the King he had once known. But everything was consumed by that hideous darkness, and the Shadow he knew was surely dead.

The corpses were burned in the giant heap. The reeking stinging smell of charred flesh filled his nostrils, as swarms of flies buzzed around the bodies. This was their offering to the god of Death, Beelzebub. Where was Carter's God now? If he ever existed at all, surely he lay here now on the pile of bodies, burning, dead.

* * * * *

Nathan narrowed his eyes, squinting down his scope in order to see the approaching soldiers. He was a trained professional, and he kept his breathing carefully controlled. They were coming closer, but they still weren't aware of his position. This would be like taking candy from a baby.

The huge rebel lay concealed in the greenery and brush, the barrel of his rifle protruding like a steel branch. The thick tree cover above cast dark shadows on the forest floor, and the crunch of leaves and twigs under the guards' feet gave them away from a mile's distance. Nathan steadied his aim, and made his first shot.

Without hesitating a moment, he fired three more times in quick succession. Four rounds spent, four soldiers dead. Resettling himself, he pulled his com link from his pocket, and radioed back to base to report.

"Mack truck, this is pig head. Come in mack truck." he said while wiping the sweat off his forehead.

"Good to hear from you pig head! Your part of the operation go?" the radio crackled in response.

"My patrol's down, all the lights are out HQ... Is this channel secure mack truck?" Nathan said as he stole forward to examine his kills.

"We're about ninety percent sure it is. Everything is go. Return to base Commander." Nathan nodded and plucked off the dog tags on the bodies, and began his journey through the forest.

Nathan moved quickly and deftly for such a large man, traveling along an intricate path to confuse any that might be following him. He moved as silently as the wind, nothing more than a blur and a whisper as he raced past the trees.

Like a shadow he slipped into the tiny clearing, where Stevie and a collection of other officers were directing the operation.

"Good work my boy, we've got them running with their tails between their legs." Stevie grinned, while closely examining a map.

"I understand, but with all due respect, how much longer are we going to wait?"

"Until the King is so pissed that he throws a temper tantrum, and leaves himself wide open, and then, it will be over." Stevie replied, while bobbing his head slightly.

"But can Sonic and Julie..." Nathan stopped suddenly, afraid of the answer to his own question.

"Last that long? I already told you, I've been wanting to make this attack since long before Sonic and Julie got into that trouble in the palace. They are not our main concern."

"But we can't just leave them to die!" Nathan roared, before remembering his place, and staring down at the ground. Stevie regarded him sympathetically, and spoke softly.

"They knew the risk they were taking. I'll not jeopardize the lives of more soldiers with a premature rescue attempt." Stevie sighed, and glanced at Nathan with weary, sad eyes. The black rebel gave an unconvincing nod, and stormed off.

After the rebels had escaped the capital, they'd taken refuge in the nearby wilderness and begun guerilla warfare operations against the Regime. There'd been raids, hit and run attacks, practically anything to draw soldiers out of the city in small numbers and kill them. But they had also been targeting supply centers, anything of importance to the Regime that could be blown up.

Stevie had contacted the leaders of the Rebellion in their bases in other countries, and instructed them to do the same, to hit the Regime all at once, and fluster them. It was all in preparation for the great prison break. They would storm into the capital, penetrate the Death Camp, and release as many prisoners as they could.

Many of the other rebels were under the impression that this mission was sheerly for the purpose of saving Sonic and Julie. While Nathan knew that this wasn't the truth, he also knew that chances of survival in the Valley of Death were slim. He was anxious to see them safe. Frustrated and confused, Nathan wandered off into the forest alone to brood. He did not come back for several hours.

* * * * *

"But father you promised!" Dawn growled, but Shadow was unmoved.

"Well, I changed my mind. I really don't think you deserve her," Shadow said with an air of disappointment in his voice, something like if Dawn were failing in school.

"But we had an agreement... you promised." the small hedgehog pouted, and glared up at his father.

"Don't worry, you can still go and visit her, its just... you see, she's done some very bad things." Shadow explained, while twisting a gold figurine in his fingers.

"Is that why she's been taken down to the basement?" Apparently, as much as he hated it, Dawn still thought of the palace as his house. Shadow smirked, but did not laugh.

"Yes my son. You cannot trust her. She'll only try to get you to do bad things too. In fact, I'll bet you she's killed someone." Dawn's eyes widened, and his brows furrowed, his shock and disbelief mixing into one.

"No... that's horrible!" he breathed, while looking expectantly at his father.

"So you see son, you mustn't believe anything she tells you. Trust me son, when have I ever lied to you." Shadow's expression remained empty, but his eyes betrayed the dark laughter in his heart.

"Never..." Dawn admitted, as he mentally went over everything he'd been told by Julie. It seemed like she'd only told him about wonderful things, and beautiful things. How could she be trying to get him to do ugly things?

"Listen to me son. Sometime soon, she will ask you to do something bad for her. Now you remember what I've told you, and put her in her place. Understand?"

Dawn nodded, and left. The trip to his room suddenly took an eternity, as his mind twisted and turned over what his father had said. He could not find sleep easily, and tossed and turned in his bed. When finally his eyelids glided shut from sheer exhaustion, he was plagued by nightmares. And so died another fragment of innocence. So twisted was Shadow, so in love with his power, that he was willing to deceive his own son to ensure its continuance. Perhaps Dawn too, was being consumed by Death. But he, rather than being dropped into the pit of Hell, was slowly being corrupted and decayed, till all that remained was a hollow, lifeless shell.

* * * * *

General Frederick Thran marched like a robot, every move precise and controlled, even his very breathing to the beat of his stride. His left chest was covered in medals and ribbons, and on his hat was the insignia of his rank. But the Regime did not admit the existence of stars, so generals had been given a different symbol. Rather than having one, two, three or four stars on their uniforms, the Regime's generals had iron depictions of atoms, a dot with dual halos. The last Grand Marshal they'd had wore a single mushroom cloud to represent his power. But since he'd displeased the King, the generals were in competition for the station.

Straightening out his grey uniform, he stepped into the King's throne room. General Thran had grown not to fear the King over time, but rather to hold him in a position of reverence. Over time, they had come to think alike, and the general had moved to the spot of one of his most trusted military advisors.

Thran stepped mechanically forward, stopped in from of the throne, and remained motionless there, awaiting his orders. Shadow regarded him soberly, and without emotion.

"Would I be correct in assuming that you heard about last week's attack on Roujin?" The King said in a careful, almost bored tone.

"As always, you are correct, your excellency." Thran replied, but remained frozen. Shadow's eyes flicked to him, and then wandered away, to stare at some point behind him.

"At ease. What you will not be aware of is that there was an attack on the palace as well, and an attempt on my life." The tyrant's voice rose slightly at this, and his eyes returned to Thran.

"Obviously, stronger security measures are necessary. What would you have your humble servant do my lord?"

"Improving the security of our existing strongholds alone will not be sufficient. Therefore, I am charging you with the construction of an entirely new fortress. Build it to be impenetrable, indestructible. Report back to me once it is finished."

"But sire, where am I to build it?" Thran glanced down at his King, a sneer on his face.

"Wherever you wish. Now go." The dictator answered. With a pomp salute, and a bow, the general was gone, leaving the King alone in his thoughts.

* * * * *

According to Reverend Carter, any attempt at escape was not just futile, it was suicidal. The camp was under complete and constant surveillance, and any rebels who were discovered would be dealt with in the same fashion as those whose execution he'd recently witnessed. When Sonic asked the reverend what was to be done, the answer he received infuriated him.

"Wait and pray."

"So you think we should do nothing." he said accusingly, as Julie looked shocked.

"I didn't say you should do nothing. I said you should pray. Perhaps that way you could save your life. Even if you can't, at least you will have saved your soul." was the reverend's calm reply. Sonic looked baffled and indignant, sputtering staring wide eyed as if the reverend had said something of the most offensive nature.

"If God is real, why does he let the Regime run rampant, doing whatever it pleases?"

"The Regime is not unopposed. Have you stopped to consider that perhaps your rebellion is an instrument being used by God?" Carter smiled, even in the gloom of a death camp, he smiled.

"Well then why hasn't he given us the victory?" Sonic demanded, perhaps more to God than to Carter.

"The victory is not yours to receive. Vengeance is mine, thus sayeth the Lord." Sonic was silent at this. He did not stir until he heard a soldier coming up behind him.

"Prisoner BL-199234?" the guard asked.

"That's me." Sonic said without turning around to look at the guard.

"Follow me." he ordered as he cocked his gun. Sonic did as he was told, and soon, he had one soldier leading the way and one behind with a pistol pointed at him.

He was lead into a concrete building with no windows on the sides. The inside room was dark, but not pitch black. It appeared to be empty, and the guards simply dropped him on the floor and left, latching the door behind them. The silence was oppressive, and Sonic was surprised to find that they had neither bound nor restrained him in any way.

A hellish laughter emanated from one of the corners of the room, but its owner did not reveal himself.

"Prisoner BL-199234. I've heard so much about you. His majesty used to speak so highly of you. Perhaps his judgement is impaired." Sonic scoured every corner of the room, but save for himself, it was completely empty.

"His excellency is a bit sentimental, he believes prisoners deserve a more personal touch. I prefer more detached, professional interrogation."

"So what are you going to do, talk me to death?" Sonic sneered, while staring around for the source of the sound.

"Well, seeing as how his majesty's forbidden anyone from executing or torturing you, there's not much else I can do. But you see, I'm curious. Why would the King give you special treatment?"

"I knew him before... before the Regime." Sonic knew that official policy was that there was nothing before the Regime, but he decided to just speak the truth for now.

"Fascinating! You mean to tell me that you used to be friends with his grace, and now you are his enemy! How interesting. Why didn't you join him?"

"I never knew he was the King, and even if I had, I never would have worked for you! Who are you!" Sonic yelled, staring around in paranoid confusion. There was a pause, before the voice responded.

"I am General Lewis Barett, commandant of this camp. And according to my records, you worked for the Regime for a good number of years in a non-military position." Sonic was silent at being reminded of his life under the Regime, and as he fought to keep his anger under control.

"How are you liking my camp? I designed it myself you know. I took notes on the Nazi concentration camps and the Soviet work camps, but I especially researched how things were done at Auchwitz. That one's my favorite. What about you?" Barett said with a haughty laugh.

"You're a sick bastard, and I would kill you if I got the chance! All of you Regime puppets deserve to die!" he screamed in anger, but the General remained nonchalant.

"Well, you were a part of the Regime not too long ago. You may as well have helped us build this prison with your own hands. You see BL-199234, evil is an abstract concept. Everyone is a part of the same whole. If something terrible happens, we all allowed it to happen. So if you must insist on continuing to refer to the Regime and those who make it up as 'evil' at least admit that you stood by and watched, permitted its existence. Didn't you."

"Shut up, shut up, shut up! I'll kill you, I swear by God!" After Sonic's outburst, the chamber was completely silent. So long was it noiseless, Sonic started to wonder if the General had just left him there. Then, like glass, the silence was broken.

"I thought you didn't believe in God. No matter. Let's test my theory, shall we? Tomorrow, I'm going to execute someone in the camp. Now, you already knew that, but just to be fair, I'm bringing it to your attention. If I told you that you could trade your life for theirs, you wound refuse on the grounds that you can't know if I'll make good on the deal, or that you have a mission to do, or something.

"Now, the moment we introduce any sort of sentimentality, suddenly, you're actually thinking about it instead of brushing it aside. If I told you I was going to kill... that wolf girl... from the look on your face, I suspect you'd have to give it more thought."

"You wouldn't dare!" Sonic shouted, losing more control by the second.

"What's to stop me? Why is it that this matters to you, but the life of a 'normal' person doesn't? Because you are inherently greedy, and the only thing causing you to give that girl a second thought is your own conscience."

"You're wrong. I care about Julie, and I would kill you if you laid a finger on her." Sonic boiled with rage, and even attacked the concrete walls, which didn't budge a millimeter.

"That's the curious thing you see. Originally, you saved her without knowing anything about her. So you disproved my theory. There has to be a logical explanation."

"If you took ten seconds to get off your high horse and stopped thinking you were better than everybody else, you'd realize that not everything in the world can be scientifically analyzed. Some things just are." Sonic defended, turning about, facing his invisible opponent in the battle of wits.

"Preposterous. The universe itself can be explained by set rules of science. Everything is inherently orderly. Even what we define as chaos follows patterns." Sonic was silent. He knew he could not convince the General, and that he was getting nowhere. So he simply refused to speak. But wasn't that admitting the general was right? Slowly, little by little, Sonic was giving up his hopeless dream. A dream of a world without the Regime, without war, or famine or death. But when one stops dreaming, perhaps one also stops living.

* * * * *

The acrid smell of rotting corpses filled the air as the prisoners flung bodies into the mass grave. Today, there had been a mass execution in Block 11, and the crematoriums were all full, so burials were to take place. As always, Carter was standing by, Bible in hand, with a 'ceremony' to mourn the victims' passing. Flies collected in huge numbers on the stinking remains, and feasted.

Sonic and Julie worked side by side, both smudged in dirt and blood, looking disheveled and messy. Sonic wore an expression of grim negativity, whereas Julie simply looked disgusted and horrified. A numb dazedness had come over Sonic, and he hardly even recognized that he was moving the corpses.

Suddenly, he was aware, as if smacked in the face for his empty thoughts. Staring up at him were hollow, glazed over eyes, perched above an open, toothless mouth. The man who used to sacrifice his food for his son, he was now dead. A fly crawled under his eyelid, undoubtedly to devour the soft material which lay underneath it. Shuddering and wide eyed, Sonic threw the man's body into the grave with all the others.

When they were done, and the solemn air had lifted, Sonic continued to scour the camp for any possible method of escape, but just as Carter predicted, there was nothing. No method of escape. No way out. The walls were solid, guards were everywhere. Even if somewhere, there was some overlooked miracle, the place was so vast, and light so scarce that he was unlikely to ever find it.

But he couldn't give up, couldn't stop hoping. Sometimes Sonic would despair, and find his never say die attitude... dying. On these occasions, he was supported by Julie, who tried to remain cheerful even in the bleakest circumstances. In this way, they carried each other, with Sonic depending on Julie in his hour of need, and Julie depending on him in hers.

Rumors had started circulating about Rebellion attacks, and Regime troop maneuvers. The information was likely flawed, but he didn't care, better to be misinformed than uninformed.

According to the stories, the rebels had escaped the disaster at Roujin unharmed, and taken to the nearby countryside. If it was true, that was definitely good news. Also floating around was a story that said the Regime was closing in on the rebel base, so they both hoped that one was fabricated.

Sonic now hated the general with a vengeance, and although Julie was quick to remind him that 'their only enemy was the King', this did not comfort him.

What could've possibly happened to Shadow that he could become so monstrous? Surely this was all a dream, a dream we would soon awake from at any moment now. He'd get up, and everything would be okay. He would wake up to the smiling face of Amy, and be greeted by his fox friend, who would have both his legs. Knuckles would visit, addiction free, Guardian over his emerald. Of course, Eggman would try to ruin everything, but they'd stop him as usual.

Maybe Shadow would even show up, and... and... they would be friends. There would be no King, no Regime... just Shadow. Just Shadow. No Rebellion, no war, no arrests... things would be good again.

The stars would show themselves, and every evil would be repaid. They'd dismantle the tanks, tear down the fortresses of steel and stone. They would rip open the death camps, free every prisoner. They'd shatter the gas chambers, grind the crematoriums to dust.

Any minute now, they would all wake up and feel the sunshine on their faces, the breeze in their hair. No more would the world be ruled by darkness.

But no awakening came. It was not a dream. This was the real world, the truth. It was horrifying, waking reality was worse than any nightmare. And why? Because his friend and ally had turned his back on decency, mercy, democracy. Disregarding everything good in the world, he founded his empire of Hell.

And then it hit him. Shadow was the darkness. He was Satan, prince of demons. King of horrors, emperor of nightmares, he was death. The Black Death. Champion of suffering. Ruler of evil. Lord of the Flies. He was it all rolled up into one. And with the darkness in his heart and the terrible power he wielded, how could they hope to survive?

And now the darkness in the camp had become darkness in his heart, and death in his soul. No escape. Eternal night. Death. The sun had set on the world, never to rise again. But instead of starlight of night that came with the darkness, there was only an empty, artificial abyss.

Sonic look around and saw the rising billows of smoke from the crematoriums. He saw the endless ranks of dead men marching in the nothingness. He saw the gas chambers, and the writhing, tortured bodies that filled them. He saw the blood and the flames come together to form a single shade of crimson.

The world spun around him, faster and faster, and the darkness grew thicker. The flames cascaded higher, clawed up at the ceiling, like the fires of Hell. Screams echoed in the background, and time slowed to a halt. The world appeared in shades of red and black, the colors of evil... of Shadows.

The world bowed down to the great dictator. He had already won. Sonic collapsed on the ground, gasping and convulsing, stricken by a sudden fit of epilepsy. The world he saw deformed into misshapen, demonic images, haunting him.

A pounding pulse began to beat in his temples, and his heart raced at a dangerous speed. He was covered in sweat and blood, but the world seemed to him as if it was freezing. He was numb, detached, and could not feel Julie's hands grasping him as she shook him and cried out frantically.

One of the soldiers came over to tell her to shut up. She pleaded with him that her friend was in dire trouble, and although she was received at first with skepticism, after enough nagging, they took heed to her screams.

Sonic's complexion was white as bed sheet, and his skin was cold. His nose had started to drip blood, and he convulsed with spasms and muttered to himself.

The soldiers lifted him up on a stretcher, and carried him off, while detaining Julie, who was screaming and insisting on coming along. A flood of chills washed over Sonic's senses, and the last thing he envisioned before he lost all awareness was the weeping, frantic face of Julie, transformed into a corpse, as the general had said.

After that, he was devoured by the darkness that bubbled forth from within his soul. All that existed was shadow. Just shadow. Just death. Its icy fingers wrapped around him like a noose, ever tightening, squeezing closer and closer, till their horrible nails drew blood. Constricting inward, they hugged him tightly, and pulled him down into the abyss.


	8. Pestilence

**Chapter 8: Pestilence**

The row of prisoners stretched on endlessly, with thin, ragged bodies wobbling and leaning on each other for support. The soldiers were calling out numbers with a megaphone, but they all remained stone faced as those who had been chosen were dragged away. Jonathan could not help but cry, it had been only yesterday that his father, his kind, loving father was killed.

He shook violently as the tears left trails of clean skin on his otherwise filthy cheeks. He was only half listening as the soldiers rattled off the ID numbers of those who would die. Jonny, as his mother had called him, was only fifteen, and a late bloomer at that, not even yet having visible body hair. His curly, golden locks were soiled with dirt and sweat, and his bright emerald eyes had dark bags under them, sallow and bruised from rubbing them.

Suddenly, he felt a creeping chill claw slowly up his spine, as all the hairs on the back of his neck stood straight. His number had been called. He stared in horror as a pair of soldiers marched towards him to seize him, to drag him away. Refusing to simply give himself over, he screamed and ran, as angry shouts resounded behind him. The guards pursued him relentlessly, nightsticks drawn and ready for use.

Dust was thrown up from his feet striking the earth, as beads of sweat rolled down his heaving sides. He was able to make out the sound of a gun clicking as it was loaded behind him, and he was overtaken by pure, animal terror.

Now he was being chased by five soldiers, each of them shouting and waving their weapons at him. But he refused to listen. He wasn't thinking about where he would go, just anywhere but _there_. A bullet grazed his shoulder and he hissed in pain, and clawed at the wound to find his hand dripping with a hot, crimson wetness.

His shoulder was ablaze with a throbbing fire, and he gritted his teeth. Suddenly losing his footing, he stumbled forward, and landed on the ground. He rolled several feet as his momentum spent itself, and stopped. Frantically he tried to get back up, but they were already upon him, all five of them tackling him at once.

He let out an ear piercing, terrified cry as he wrestled with them, kicking and struggling with all his might. The soldiers beat him with their truncheons, and although he gasped with each stinging blow, he fought on. A stream of blood dribbled down his chin, and his uniform was soaked with perspiration. His muscles began to burn in protest, but he ignored them and continued to resist.

The guards had now fallen into a thirsty blood lust, and snarled contemptibly as they abused him. It seemed as though it lasted for forever, the coppery taste of his own blood, the nightsticks, the frantic, sweaty struggling. Finally, exhaustion and pain began to weigh heavily on him, and his resistance became weaker and weaker, until he stopped grappling with them altogether, and lay there, panting and sobbing.

The soldiers continued to beat him for awhile, until the megaphone behind them ordered that he be brought back. Dragging his limp and sluggish body back to the line, they threw him to the ground at the feet of General Barett.

Jonathan looked wearily but hatefully up at the thin, arrogant man, and coughed on a strand of blood ebbing from his lips. His throat was hoarse, but he managed to croak out a question.

"Why are you doing this? I've done nothing wrong." he was now covered in dark bruises, and every part of him appeared to be bleeding.

"My poor, naïve child. You have only made things worse for yourself." General Barett was a sickly, weak looking man, not even as full and manly as young, late blooming Jonathan. And were it not for the fact that the youth had just completely spent himself, he likely could have easily killed the cowardly general.

Jonathan only spat in the general's eye in response, and the soldiers immediately grabbed him, clubbing him again.

"Hold him still!" Barett growled as he wiped blood and saliva out of his eye. Soon, the boy was pinned to the ground, unable to move, a vicious snarl on his lips.

"Obviously, you need to be taught some manners..." the general drawled, as he motioned for the soldiers to spread the boy's legs apart.

At realizing what was about to happen, Jonathan became frantic again, twisting and screaming. The general drew his foot back, preparing to strike. Then, just as the blow was about to fall, he was interrupted.

"**STOP!**" unconsciously obeying, the general stood and stared stupidly around, wondering who could have possibly said such a thing. At first, he thought Shadow had given the order, but at seeing him not present, he was baffled. Then it dawned on him. Turning to the prisoners, he spoke.

"Who said that?" he shook with anger, and his voice was low, holding a quiet fury. When no one answered, he exploded in rage.

"**I asked who said that!**" he yelled at the top of his lungs. Out of the silence that followed came a reply.

"I did." Called an aged man with a snowy beard. Stepping forward to set himself apart from the silent, he accepted his fate. A light smile was on his face, a kind of defiant joy that refused to be crushed by his circumstances.

"Then you shall suffer his fate as well." the general sniggered, as a pair of guards stepped forward to grab him.

"No he didn't, I did!" another prisoner cried, as they stepped closer.

"No, it was me!"

"I did it." Soon the air was filled with the shouts of first a couple, then a handful, and then dozens of prisoners, each claiming to have been the one. Mob mentality took over, as they began to chant, madness in their eyes. Soldiers set up a perimeter around the general, and he growled and picked up the megaphone.

"You will all be executed if you don't stop immediately!" But it was too late. The prisoners, drunken with rage, surged as one whole for General Barett. Soldiers ran from every direction, surrounding the mob and striking out randomly with truncheons.

A shot rang out and the mob shrieked, and shattered. The guards quickly gathered them up and put them back in line. General Barett looked considerably shaken, and paced up and down the line of prisoners, screeching violently at them.

"If I even hear a whisper of rebellion... so much as a suggestion of insurrection, I swear by the breath in my lungs that I'll execute every last damn prisoner from the youngest child to the oldest man in the entire block!" Some of the prisoners quaked, their former courage gone. Others stared proudly and defiantly into the distance.

"And as for you, I don't know what unlucky bastard said that, but you will take his punishment." He said to the man who first spoke out. He relented, surrendering himself willingly to the soldiers. He was thrown to the ground beside Jonathan, who was now weeping pitifully, and shuddering.

"It's going to be okay son, things will be put right some day." The old man offered with a slight smile.

"Silence. Hear me boy. You are young and bursting with vitality, and should recover normally, relatively undamaged. As for the old man... he'll be lucky to survive at all. I hope you're grateful." Jonathan ignored the general, and instead turned to his would be savior.

"I'm Jonathan. What's your name?"

"David."

"Did you hear me? Your punishment is going to be severe enough without your insolence!"

"Sir, if you may be so kind, may I request something of you?" David asked the general.

"Speak, but make it quick. I'm losing my patience." The elderly man curled his lips in a wry smile, seemingly either unaware, or uncaring of his fate.

"This boy has his entire life ahead of him, and shouldn't have to endure this. So sir, if you would allow it, I would like to take both our punishments."

Jonathan balked at the man, and glanced at the general's puzzled face.

"He cannot avoid punishment. I will lessen the extent of it, but he must be taught a lesson."

"I understand."

"Excellent. Then you will be first." The general stepped forward, and nodded to the soldiers that were holding David's legs. They obeyed his command, and spread his legs wide open. Drawing his boot back, Barett gave a sneer before he faked a kick, but to his dissatisfaction, David did not even blink.

He simply lay there, vulnerable and beaten, staring patiently up at the general. Seething with rage, Barett lashed out, bringing his foot down repeatedly on David's groin. The old man squinted his eyes and hissed in pain, but did not move, and did not speak. Jonathan stared in open mouthed horror at his elder's punishment, and it was clear to him that Barett was quickly becoming angrier.

"Oh, think you're strong, do you? I'll make you squeal, I'll make you beg to die!" Barett shrieked, now grinding his heel into the man like he was squashing an insect. David coughed and let out a couple tears, but still remained otherwise silent. The general became angrier and angrier, madly tormenting the silent man.

Ripples of white hot agony rushed over David, as his stomach churned in nausea. Still he refused Barett the satisfaction of seeing him scream. Biting his lip so hard his teeth drew blood, he resisted the overwhelming urge to cry out.

"Fool! If only you would listen, and beg, it would be over. Are you that stubborn?" Barett snarled, as he rained his foot down upon the man. David closed his eyes entirely, tears brimming at the edges. Now his arms and legs began moving of impulse rather than command, struggling on their own.

"Why do you not relent?" Barett asked as he paced in front of David. The sole of his boot had a little blood on it, and the man was now gasping and groaning, but still refused to scream.

"I'll not be your slave any longer. You can't control me any more. I'll die before I do what you say." David smiled, revealing bloodied, yellow teeth. Even as tears streamed down his face and spasms shook him from the pain, he let out a deep, hearty, chilling laugh. An impossibly smug and confident chuckle. Here he was, being tortured, completely under their dominion, and he laughed like he was the one in command.

Barett snarled and attacked David like a child throwing a temper tantrum. But the man simply continued to laugh, and his chuckle grew louder and louder. Soon, the general's boot was covered in David's blood, but he only continued to laugh and to cry at the same moment. Barett screamed and raved and kicked, eyes wide and furious, but still David refused to stop laughing, refused to scream.

In the moment before his death, David's haunting laughter rose to a booming climax, echoing out over the soldiers and the prisoners, who stood solemnly and silently. His blood was in a pool at the apex of his thighs, and the general's boot was now soaked. His chest heaved violently, and now his laugh was interspersed with hacking coughs. Finally he stopped laughing, and breathed one final oration.

"You've lost, you hear me? Lost! We will win out in the end! You hear me you heartless bastard? You hear me your majesty? You've lost! I'm still laughing!" When he had finished yelling out his curse on the Regime, he settled in his bed of blood and concrete, emitted one final childish giggle, and breathed his last breath.

All present but General Barett were stunned, many moved, but as for him, he was shaking with fury. Turning to Jonathan with a sinister twinkle in his eye, his voice ground low like gravel.

"If you are smart boy, you will learn from the old fool's example, and scream quickly. Your punishment will be marginal, and then you will go to the clinic." He muttered as he stepped closer. Jonathan struggled wildly again, but soon burnt himself out.

Barett drew his foot back slowly, almost ceremoniously, an evil sneer on his face. Jonathan's eyes widened as his boot crashed into his groin, and waves of fiery pain rolled over his entire body. A single second of such torture seemed like hell; Jonathan wondered how David had not died sooner. After only one kick, he felt as if he would die. The general once again ground in his heel, and Jonathan screamed.

An ear splitting, blood curdling, animal scream of pain and rage. He convulsed violently, crying and shrieking as the general gave him one more kick for good measure, and drew his foot away.

"See? That wasn't so bad, now was it? I'm sure you'll feel better in a day or two."

"You're a sick, soulless ass, and you're going to burn in hell you motherf -" The general slapped Jonathan as hard as he could, but his former rage had subsided, he now looked amused, he was back in control.

"Mind your language boy," he scolded like a mother, "Take him to Dr. Amsel."

* * * * *

When Sonic regained consciousness, he had the worst migraine of his life. It came upon him slowly, at first just a dull throb in his head. It grew to a pounding fire, and the very moment his eyes were open he wished he were dead.

Needles were pushed into him in multiple places, and wires and tubes were attached to them. His eyes were red and bloodshot, and when he moved it felt as if his bones were grinding against each other. He heard a faint groaning in the darkness around him, but he paid it no mind.

The beeping of his IV was steady, and although he'd been prevented from going into cardiac arrest, he was not nearly recovered. It was all kind of fuzzy; he remembered working at the corpse pile, and then the next thing he knew...

_Flashback_

_And now the darkness in the camp had become darkness in his heart, and death in his soul. No escape. Eternal night. Death. The sun had set on the world, never to rise again. But instead of starlight of night that came with the darkness, there was only an empty, artificial abyss. _

_Sonic look around and saw the rising billows of smoke from the crematoriums. He saw the endless ranks of dead men marching in the nothingness. He saw the gas chambers, and the writing, tortured bodies that filled them. He saw the blood and the flames come together to form a single shade of crimson. _

_The world spun around him, faster and faster, and the darkness grew thicker. The flames cascaded higher, clawed up at the ceiling, like the fires of Hell. Screams echoed in the background, and time slowed to a halt. The world appeared in shades of red and black, the colors of evil... of Shadows. _

_The world bowed down to the great dictator. He had already won. Sonic collapsed on the ground, gasping and convulsing, stricken by a sudden fit of epilepsy. The world he saw deformed into misshapen, demonic images, haunting him._

_A pounding pulse began to beat in his temples, and his heart raced at a dangerous speed. He was covered in sweat and blood, but the world seemed to him as if it was freezing. He was numb, detached, and could not feel Julie's hands grasping him as she shook him and cried out frantically. _

_One of the soldiers came over to tell her to shut up. She pleaded with him that her friend was in dire trouble, and although she was received at first with skepticism, after enough nagging, they took heed to her screams. _

_Sonic's complexion was white as bed sheet, and his skin was cold. His nose had started to drip blood, and he convulsed with spasms and muttered to himself. _

_The soldiers lifted him up on a stretcher, and carried him off, while detaining Julie, who was screaming and insisting on coming along. A flood of chills washed over Sonic's senses, and the last thing he envisioned before he lost all awareness was the weeping, frantic face of Julie, transformed into a corpse, as the general had said. _

_After that, he was devoured by the darkness that bubbled forth from within his soul. All that existed was shadow. Just shadow. Just death. Its icy fingers wrapped around him like a noose, ever tightening, squeezing closer and closer, till their horrible nails drew blood. Constricting inward, they hugged him tightly, and pulled him down into the abyss. _

_End Flashback_

The groaning aroused him from his musings, as it had grown louder. Enduring the torture of movement, he discovered that he was strapped on to the bed with thin metal bands. The room was dark, but perhaps it was night, or... he'd forgotten, there was no day or night down here in Hell. Now the groaning had subsided and it had been replaced with crying, but Sonic was in too much agony to feel any empathy.

The other occupant of the room was shivering and blubbering, frightened out of his mind. Sonic's bed creaked, and he jolted suddenly.

"Who's there?" he cried, while shaking in pain and terror. Sonic's mind was suddenly blank as to the proper response, and when he searched his mind as to why the boy shouldn't fear him, he produced only one thing.

"They've tied me up too. I'm not one of them." The boy was comforted a little by this, but he still whimpered softly. "Where are we?"

At this the boy cried even more pitifully and loudly than before. After enduring a moment of his piteous sobbing, Sonic repeated his question, and this time he received an answer amidst the sobbing.

"We're awaiting 'treatment' from Dr. Amsel." he shuddered as he said the name, but it held no meaning for Sonic. Just as he was about to ask about this, it seems the universe itself decided to answer it.

A crack of light appeared in the wall and widened, as his eyes burned from the sudden change of lighting. A door swung inward with a faint creak, and Jonathan trembled pathetically.

"Hello my _dear_ patients. I am Doctor Amsel. I am going to _take care_ of you." The boy wept fitfully, and Sonic could not help but wonder why he was so afraid.

"BL-199234, informally known as Sonic the Hedgehog. Reportedly suffered from cardiac arrest, an epileptic seizure, and a simultaneous nervous and emotional breakdown. Now in stable condition, with minor damage."

Now the doctor came to stand in front of Jonathan, who struggled violently against his bonds.

"ZR-786255, or Jonathan Kepler. Blunt force trauma to the groin, repeated bruising on the torso, and moderate levels of blood loss. Father died two days ago of diphtheria."

"You killed him you bastard!" Jonathan sobbed, as his chest lurched up and down. The doctor chuckled and turned to Sonic, who was staring open mouthed at him.

"There are very few cases of _recovery_ here at the Camp Hospital, in fact most tend to... get worse with time. Unfortunately, his grace has specifically mentioned that I am... _not to fail _in your treatment. As for the boy..."

At being mentioned in such light, Jonathan shuddered and cried, while glowering hatefully at Amsel.

"You will not touch him." Sonic growled, voice low and fists clenched.

"As long as you cooperate fully with me." Amsel's monocle glimmered, and his thin lips spread in an evil grin.

"Damn it, he's just a kid! Why does he have to suffer?" Sonic replied, while straining against his bonds.

"All children must grow up one way or another. If he survives, he'll be a man. And for every time you resist, he'll suffer." Sonic glared at him in defiance, trying his patience in order to call his bluff. When the doctor saw that he would have to follow through or lose face, he snickered.

Amsel retrieved a scalpel, and made a long, quick slice that ran from above Jonathan's eyebrow, and all the way to his jaw. The blade narrowly missed gouging out his eye, and the young boy howled in pain.

"You sick bastard..." Sonic snarled, baring his teeth dangerously.

"Oh I'm just getting warmed up. And I can assure you that you will get tired of seeing him suffer before I do."

Sonic nodded and consented, causing the doctor to pull out a long needle, which glimmered tauntingly.

"This serum should keep you from experiencing such a fit again, and should also accelerate your recovery. However, it does have a... nasty side effect." The doctor smiled as he snapped on a pair of plastic gloves.

"And what would that be?" Sonic asked; highly suspicious of the serum.

"Oh nothing serious really... just a slightly increased susceptibility to pain. Your nervous system will be temporarily heightened. Oh, and I can use it on you, or him. Your choice." Sonic glanced over at the quivering form beside him, and then looked into the dark, sallow eyes of Dr. Amsel.

Amsel took this as his cue, and injected the serum into Sonic. Immediately, he was overtaken by agony, as each nerve ending in his body burned as if it was on fire. He shouted in anger and pain, and struggled violently against his bonds.

"Ah ah ah. Take it like a man." He cut Jonathan again as he said this, and Sonic fought with all his might against the metal bonds. Flexing every muscle in his body, he grunted and yelled as sweat began to form on his brow and the flaring pain continued to scorch him.

Amsel was now slashing his blade up and down Jonathan's bare, hairless chest, and smiling devilishly, even licking the blood off his knife. He was surprised when Sonic growled and strained with all his might, causing the metal restraints to begin to crack. They snapped cleanly in two, and Sonic collapsed, pain and exertion causing him to lose consciousness.

Jonathan was still screaming as blood gushed out of the many cuts that laced his face, torso, arms, and legs. Amsel laughed and looked down at his handiwork. What had previously been a youthful, attractive face with a boyish smile and golden blonde locks was no more. Now it was a flushed, sweaty mass of ripped skin, with exposed muscles flexing over Jonathan's jaw.

Crisscrossing over his chest were dual sets of bleeding cuts, and his arms looked as if a tiger had mauled them. The boy shook and sobbed, and some of his tears dribbled down into the cuts, causing him to cry all the more. Drawing close to the defenseless youth, Amsel stroked his cheek like a comforting mother, while he whispered hateful words.

"Don't worry young one. I'm not going to kill you. I want to watch you suffer. I will keep you alive to torture you, and when I'm done with you I'll cast you out like an old pair of shoes. And then one day you'll realize that I'm the only person who ever wanted you."

"No. **NO!** My father loved me before you killed him." Jonathan screamed, while shuddering and bleeding.

"Sh sh sh sh. Now, I'm going to stop the bleeding. It will hurt, and when they're finally healed, you'll have some lovely, ugly scars. Hope you like your life of loneliness." Amsel smiled slightly, and patted the boy on the head. Turning around, he picked up a small glass container with a white, powdery substance in it.

"This is Sodium Chloride, commonly known as salt. It stings, but closes the wounds. It does it rather crudely, but what do I care." Amsel explained with a smirk. Opening the lid, he laughed sadistically as he began to pour the stinging granules over Jonathan's wounds.

A chilling, heartbreaking scream echoed throughout the expanse of the underground chamber. It went on and on, shrieking and pained. Then, as suddenly as it had erupted, the scream died, and was replaced only by a broken sob.

"Oops. Did I get some in your eye? Clumsy me." Amsel retorted, as he sealed the half empty container. "I have other patients to attend to. I will see you again soon."

The doctor left Jonathan alone, his cuts festering with the stinging salt. His teeth were clenched as tears streamed down his blooded face, and his eyes held an unfathomable hatred. And then he thought of his father, and of David, and he wept, pledged his revenge.

* * * * *

"I thought I'd lost you!" Julie exclaimed as she embraced Sonic in a tight hug. They hadn't told her anything of his condition, and then all of the sudden, they had announced that he was so be released from the hospital in good condition.

"Heh, I did too for a second there. It's good to see you again." Julie blushed slightly at this remark, and the two began to walk away from the horrifying building known as the Camp Hospital.

"So are the rumors about the hospital..." Julie bit her lip, and glanced at Sonic.

"Yes. The doctor doesn't cure anything, he just tortures the weak and sickly patients who go to him." Sonic deadpanned, clenching his fists in anger.

"Then... how did you survive?" She wondered aloud, as the two stopped in front of a mine.

"Apparently, Sha-" Sonic paused as he briefly choked up, "The King... has instructed that I am to kept alive." He finished quietly. Julie cocked her head and looked at him curiously, while both of them sat down to talk, in the darkness.

"Me too. Why would he do that?"

"I suspect he's sparing you because you tried to kill him, and he has something special planned for you. As for me... I used to know him." Sonic muttered, ashamed of his connections with the Regime.

Julie merely balked at him, mouth open but no words coming out. A moment later, she settled her mind and made her decision.

"It doesn't matter. The important thing is that you're okay, and we'll get through this together." Sonic eyed the wolf rebel in admiration, her uncrushable spirit always strong and resolute.

"You never cease to amaze me. You really believe we'll get out of this okay, don't you?" Sonic said with a cynical frown.

"With all my heart." Sonic looked at her soberly, and hung his head. How could he have allowed himself to stop believing? Once again, tears filled his eyes as he trembled.

"What's the matter?" she asked, while wiping away some of the tears. He snuffed and looked at her.

"You've never stopped hoping. But I allowed his lies to poison my heart, and I let the darkness overtake me." He explained, as he stared at the ground.

"No. Through all the trials and the horrors, it was the hope of freedom and you alone that kept me going. You have to learn to depend on me," she replied, while slinging her arm around his shoulder.

"We'll get back somehow, and things will be put right. I swear it," Sonic muttered, and began to move away, but she pulled him deeper into the embrace.

"Promise to never scare me like that again." She whispered, while caressing him gently. Apparently, the possibility of death at any moment had made them both more open to each other.

"What do you mean?" He replied, while staring at her earnestly.

"I thought I'd lost you. I didn't know what I would do. I need you." She breathed, and the pair cried together.

"I'll always be by your side, until the bitter end. And one day, we can live in a world of peace." Sonic declared, before looking deeply into Julie's aquamarine eyes.

"All it takes is hope and love." She rasped.

"Well we've got both of those, now don't we?" He replied, as he pulled her closer. She nodded, and their lips met. It was only for a brief moment, an eternity within a second. Separating and standing to their feet, the pair continued along their way, hand in hand.

And this is the proof, the antithesis to all that is evil. That there, in the bowels of darkness itself, that within Hell on earth, love could still strive, and grow. That even within the heart of darkness, good was still stronger than evil. And so the pair went along, a new optimism accompanying the new relationship.


	9. The Nightmare

**Chapter 9: The Nightmare**

Shadow smiled warmly as he grasped her hand in his. For the longest time, Shadow thought he had no soul, that he could not love. And then she came along, shattering him in his darkness, and freeing him from himself.

He and Rouge hadn't been together very long, but their relationship had been quietly building since long before it was official. She smiled back at him, as they continued their walk. In the past, everything Shadow had ever loved had been taken from him, and for what seemed like an eternity, he refused to love again so as not to suffer the pain a second time. Now he had opened his heart one last time.

They continued their tranquil hike in silence for a while, their footsteps accompanied by the rustling of leaves in the brightly colored fall trees. It seemed to Shadow that whenever he was with Rouge, the sky seemed that much bluer, the sun brighter.

Suddenly, she froze, and he wondered why she had stopped walking. A chill ran up Rouge's spine, as she let her hand slip out of his. A terrible hissing noise came from behind them, and Shadow whirled around to face its owner. The shock on his face was obvious.

There, standing in front of him was a horrible, obsidian monster. Its fingers ended in long, curved claws that dripped blood, and its arms were long and muscular. It was accompanied by an unbearable, reeking smell, the scent of decaying flesh. Its face was contorted in a scowl of hatred, and its eyes were a hellish crimson.

The creatures jaws gaped open like an endless pit, and long, dagger-like teeth bristled within. It eyed them both hungrily, as Rouge trembled with fear. Wondering if perhaps the monster could be reasoned with, Shadow stepped protectively in front of Rouge, and addressed it.

"What do you want?" The creature's eyes flashed in comprehension, and horrifying him even more than it would have if the creature had remained silent, it replied.

"Your flesh." It grinned devilishly, and licked its lips. Seeing that the abomination could not be convinced, Shadow prepared for battle. Smirking and unleashing its blood-lust, the monster thundered forward, fist drawn back.

Shadow side-stepped the attack, and replied with a blow of his own, but the beast didn't even seem to notice it had been hit.

The creature slashed downwards with its fearsome claws, and Shadow narrowly dodged. Not wanting to find out what the implements were capable of, Shadow kept his distance as best as he was able, while trying to devise a battle plan.

Not giving him the chance, the monster charged at him, teeth open wide in a haunting grin. It pounced on top of Shadow, knocking him to the ground. He struggled frantically under it, as it brought up a clawed hand to strike.

The beast slashed Shadow's arm, earning a yelp of pain. Its reeking breath was in his face, hot and nauseating. Slash after slash tore down Shadow's body, as the beast howled like a demonic wolf.

Looking up from its work, the monster saw the trembling form of Rouge, and smiled insidiously. Shadow noticed the subject of the beast's attention, and attacked it viciously, causing it to scream and jump off him.

The black and red hedgehog's eyes burned with hatred as he glared at the creature, and began to charge up a Chaos Spear in his hand. Crackling sparks of golden energy began to gather in his palm, with streaks of crimson running through them. He unleashed the attack, snarling with contempt as the creature bounded forward, and sidestepped the searing yellow bolt.

Cursing, he launched a series of quick projectiles at the beast, but each one missed its mark. The monster jumped, landed behind him with a thud, and began a mad dash for Rouge.

"NO!" Shadow yelled, as the raced after the creature, fury overtaking him.

The beast lunged forward, mouth wide open like a cavern, and terrible white teeth gleaming in the sun. The monster's enormous maw encompassed Rouge, and she shook in fear.

The creature's jaw snapped shut, and devoured her. Its ebony lips closed over her, and drool and blood seeped out of its mouth. Tears cascaded down Shadow's cheeks as anger began to bubble up inside him.

A wretched gulping sound emanated from the creature, and a bulge was forced down its throat. When its terrible, blood stained teeth parted a moment later, its monstrous mouth was empty.

"You... **I'll kill you!**" Shadow screamed, as he charged at the beast. The blood drenched teeth smirked, and the beast smacked Shadow in the head, knocking him to the ground.

"Don't you see? I am you. I am the king you've become." The monster said wickedly, and licked the last of Rouge's blood off its teeth.

A moment later, he was scooped up in the great jaws of the beastly Shadow, and surrounded by darkness. Just as he was about to be pushed down the tube that led to Hell, he awoke.

Shadow jolted up in bed, a loud yell escaping his lips. He was drenched in sweat, and it was late at night. He sat up, shivering and trembling, until the immediacy of the nightmare had worn off.

"Hmph." Kings were not supposed to be afraid of anything. And he was no ordinary king. He was King Shadow, the ultimate lifeform, supreme ruler of the earth. And yet he could not command control of his own emotions.

_'No sense in crying over spilt milk,_' he thought grimly, as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. When nostalgic memories began to come to him, he pushed them out of his mind.

"That was then. This is now," he said to himself. Just as he finished saying this, a vision flooded Shadow. The beast's next victim. Dawn.

* * * * *

"Sonic, you shouldn't judge someone before you've met them." Julie scolded, as Reverend Carter nodded in agreement.

"Well I'm just saying, with a father like he had, that boy can't be good news. The apple never falls far from the tree you know," he insisted, undeterred.

"Those aren't the ideals of the rebellion I know, that's Regime thinking," Carter added, glancing up momentarily from his Bible. Sonic shrugged, and continued.

"I just want to be careful..." He paused in thought. "You know an awful lot about the rebellion... What's your connection?" Julie leaned inward in interest, momentarily forgetting Sonic's disturbing prejudice against Dawn.

"Well, the first thing you should know is that I've been down here almost as long as there's been a here, and only through the grace of God do I still live." Carter explained.

"I used to be with Stevie and the revels a long time ago, back when we weren't really sure what we were doing, who we were. All we knew is that we didn't like the Regime. The Sufferous Seven had gathered together a small number of Dead Men, the first rebels.

"Anyways, our spies did some poking around, and discovered that the Regime was building some kind of massive underground storage area; this camp. At the time, we had no idea what was kept here, we just knew that if it was important enough for them to hide it, it was important enough for us to want it.

"I was part of Stevie's small excursion that attacked this place nineteen years ago. We discovered the truth about the camp, but the Regime had us cornered. As for me, I was afraid of death, and brought along this Bible for good measure.

"Stevie escaped, with two prisoners in tow. But five of the men he took with him were left down here. I was one of them. I've been stuck here since then. In all that time, there was never an escape from the Valley of Death.

"I've resigned myself to my fate. But God repays all debts. The other four rebels have all died with time. I know not the fate of the prisoners he saved, but I do know that Stevie has carried on the fight all this time. And since that day, he's been planning a prison break." The air following Carter's speech was silent and reverent, the darkness surrounding them still and docile.

"I'd heard rumors about these places, but never known for sure if they were real." Julie murmured.

"How have you survived?" Sonic asked in surprise, disbelief apparent on his face.

"Only by my redeemer. I can do all things through Christ Jesus who strengthens me." He said with every fiber of faith in his being.

"Hmph, you honestly believe that 'God's love' can save you here?" Sonic shot back. Julie was silent, not wanting to contradict either of them.

"I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

"Your survival is coincidence."

"There is no such thing as coincidence," Carter smiled in reply.

"Sonic, don't you have any faith?" Julie asked with a frown.

"I'm sorry, I just get discouraged," he replied, and Carter eyed him thoughtfully.

"Well, don't allow your discouragement to cause you to take up the same philosophies as the Regime. Without God, human life is worthless, and the King is the highest authority in the world."

"What if they're right?" He murmured, more to himself than to Carter.

"Then we've already lost."

* * * * *

Dawn trembled in quiet fear, and eyed the inky blackness around him. His stomach twisted like a pit of snakes, and he was covered in a cold sweat. He was in that stage where one was awake, and yet, the reasoning ability associated with consciousness was not yet present.

As he often did, he'd awoken to a start in the middle of a nightmare, to find his room cold and empty. It was even more uninviting than usual in the dark. Craving comfort; starving for calming words, his mind flicked to the only person who might care enough to do anything. His father. Giving one final shiver, Dawn pushed off his covers, and sat slowly up.

Sliding onto the floor, Dawn glanced fearfully at the dark corners of his room. Slowly he crept towards the door, as if afraid of waking slumbering phantoms. The handle creaked loudly as he turned it, and he cringed. Trying to walk quietly and failing, Dawn tiptoed into the hallway.

His oversized shoes (he was meant to grow into them) made such careful movement awkward, and the fact that he was shuddering did not help matters. Gradually as he went down the hall, Dawn became more and more frightened, and his pace increased. Finally, he was running down the passage, completely terrified.

His hand thundered on his father's door, and by now he was panting of fear and exertion. Shadow's door cracked open an inch, and his hellish crimson eye glared at Dawn.

"What is it?" he asked impatiently while Dawn began to cry.

"I had a nightmare," he whimpered, looking very small and lonely in the dark hallway.

"And what do you want me to do about it?" Shadow remarked coldly with a raised eyebrow.

"Please father... just for tonight, can I sleep in your room?" Dawn shook violently, and Shadow rolled his eyes, but opened the door regardless. Quicker than lightning, Dawn was in Shadow's room, embracing his father in an unreturned hug.

But even the fact that Shadow was not shunning him seemed like a generous level of affection to the young hedgehog. After he had released his father, Dawn rushed over and flopped down on Shadow's huge, plush bed. (They don't call it a King Size for nothing.)

Shadow met this with a glare, and a shake of the head. Rolling out a mat on the floor, Shadow directed his son there. Looking sad and disappointed for only a moment, Dawn accepted his father's abuse graciously, and crawled into the spot designated for him.

The boy flashed his father a boyish grin that would have made a girl his age swoon, and settled into his bed.

"Dad?" Shadow sighed in irritation at such an informal title, but replied regardless.

"What is it?"

"I love you." Whereas most fathers would jump for joy at having their thirteen year old son say this, Shadow merely regarded Dawn quietly for a second or two, and nodded in response, as if to say 'I know you do.' Dawn seemed satisfied with this, rolled over in his bed, and sunk into slumber.

But the unloving king could not find sleep. And while he wrestled in his mind for why this was, the answer lay right there in front of him, sleeping peacefully.

* * * * *

Julie and Sonic sat quietly together, side by side, hand in hand. Ever since that day when Sonic had been released from the infirmary, their relationship had bloomed slowly but surely. Their trust of one another had increased, and Julie had already begun claiming that she knew Sonic better than he knew himself.

The idea that Stevie could be planning a rescue at that very moment gave them both a new hope, while at the same time, they were increasingly aware of the possibility that they would never get out.

A few days after Sonic's release from the Camp Hospital, Jonathan was released as well. But when Sonic saw him, he could not help but cringe. The boy's tender skin was covered in black scabs, and his blonde hair was gone.

The child-like innocence was gone from the youth's eyes, and it had been replaced with the icy fire of hatred. Sonic's fists clenched in anger at Amsel's cruelty. Everything the boy's father had done for him was for nothing then. He was disfigured.

The previously friendly boy ignored them when he passed by them, keeping within the recesses of his dark and troubled mind.

"Poor kid... who knows what that pig did to him," Julie said quietly.

"God repays all debts..." Sonic repeated the words of Carter as if they were a sacred curse. Almost as if on cue, the Reverend came into view, smiled, and approached them. Sonic rolled his eyes slightly at Carter's intrusion, but Julie nudged him gently to remind him to behave.

"So how is my favorite pair of rebel lovebirds doing?" Carter grinned, as Julie blushed a bit. Sonic merely looked annoyed, and replied in kind.

"Fine thank you. And what about _our_ favorite nosey, fake-o pastor?" Strangely, Caster's smile only grew, as if he found Sonic's sarcasm endearing.

"Oh, I'm doing the same as ever."

"That bad huh?" Sonic retorted with a smirk. Once again, Carter was not offended.

"That depends on how you look at it. You could say 'That good huh?' You don't have to always be so negative you know." Sonic flatly gestured at their surroundings, reminding the Reverend that they were in a death camp.

"All the more reason to be happy while you can. None of us know when we're gonna go. Why waste time choosing to have a bad day, when it could be your last?" Carter reasoned.

"Carter's right, we shouldn't let our situation get us down. We need to enjoy the time we have," Julie nodded in agreement.

"Maybe so, but I refuse to stop hoping for a miracle," Sonic said before he realized his mistake, and closed his mouth abruptly. Carter only smiled at him, an amused twinkle in his eye. A lengthy pause filled the air, before Carter turned to Julie, and spoke.

"Judging from your reaction, you two are together then?" Now the rebel wolf's cheeks burned furiously, and she nodded slightly.

"What do you care?" was Sonic's snide reply.

"I care about everything and everyone. There is nothing more beautiful in the world than pure, selfless love. Remember that," Carter paused a moment, as for the first time since Sonic had met him, a frown spread over his lips. "Because the Regime will do whatever they can to make you forget it."

* * * * *

Dawn was content from having been given the privilege of sleeping in his father's room the night before. With a start, he realized that he hadn't visited his new friend in several days, and made it one of his highest priorities for the day.

Once he had finished with his school for the day, he found the door leading to the camp, and began the long plunge down into darkness. He had typically avoided the camp whenever possible, as if was a dark, scary place, but now he found himself with a motivation stronger than his fears.

The little hedgehog was dwarfed by the empty expanse of the camp, but didn't seem to notice. Without his permission, or knowledge, a small group of soldiers trailed distantly behind him, probably due to the prisoner revolt that had occurred in the block several days ago.

In reality, Dawn was more likely to be a victim of violence on the part of the Regime than the prisoners. After wandering around for awhile, Dawn finally came across Julie and Sonic. Sonic eyed him suspiciously, but Julie simply smiled.

"Hi Julie. Who's this?" Dawn smiled at Sonic, but the cerulean hedgehog continued to regard him carefully.

"This is Sonic. Sonic; Dawn," she said as she introduced the two. Dawn offered up his hand, and after scrutinizing the boy a minute, Sonic reluctantly took the hand, and shook it firmly.

"Nice to meet you Sonic. And how are you today?" Dawn asked politely.

"Fine other than the whole rotting away in a prison camp thing," Sonic snorted, and after a moment of consideration, a saddened understanding came into Dawn's eyes.

"Oh... I'm sorry... I- I didn't mean to..." Dawn was now staring at the ground, and Sonic seemed to sense that his apology was a genuine one.

"It's alright Dawn, you haven't done anything wrong. _Right _Sonic?" She elbowed him and shot him an accusatory stare.

"Um... yeah, I guess you're okay," Sonic admitted, defeated by the boy's sincerity.

_'He seems so familiar, maybe I've met him before. I mean, he looks just like Shadow, but he's nothing like him...'_ Dawn smiled brightly at being forgiven for the thing he hadn't done. Apparently deciding that whatever was going on before he arrived couldn't have been important, he tried to strike up a conversation.

"So Sonic, why are you here?" Sonic was tempted to say 'Because your father put me here,' but Julie seemed to sense this, and glared at him.

"I was trying to break into the palace when I was caught," he answered truthfully. But Dawn would not relent.

"Why would you want to get it there? I'd do anything to get out." Dawn's curiosity could never be satisfied.

"I was on a mission for the Rebellion," Sonic replied even though he'd actually gone awol.

"Are you both rebels?" Dawn asked somewhat excitedly, and somewhat suspiciously, as if he had mixed opinions.

"Yes, we fight the Regime," Sonic said before Julie could stop him. Now Dawn turned directly to her, and his eyes bored into her, as a half smile graced his lips.

"What is the Rebellion like?" Julie decided to tell him everything, to try to counter the lies Shadow had undoubtedly told him. She told him about Stevie and the formation of the rebel band, about Knuckles and the Master Emerald. Some of this even Sonic hadn't heard before, and he listened quietly as she told her tale of freedom and honor.

She described Nathan and his untamed strength, and gradually, as she was swept up in the tide of her own story, she forgot she was telling it to the child of the Regime.

She thundered on about the injustice of the government, the terrible oppression, and the King's unequalled cruelty. The story was sweeping, compelling, and Dawn was lost in it. Suddenly, she realized that she'd confided every last detail about the Rebellion to the son of the King, and that if he intended to, the Prince could now betray them into his father's hands, and they would be utterly destroyed.

Dawn came to this conclusion as well, and there was a moment of conflict inside him. If he helped his father, perhaps be could then be worthy of Shadow's love and affection. Maybe then he would be good enough, deserve his father's love. After all, Shadow was a good king, wasn't he? Wasn't he?

No. It all came back to him, every cruelty, every angry punishment his father had dealt him. He would not betray his new friends, and perhaps in exchange, they would accept him.

"Don't worry. I won't tell... _him_," Dawn said with a reassuring smile. Finally, Sonic was convinced completely of Dawn's good intentions.

"We could use a boy like you in the Rebellion." Sonic smirked, arms open wide in a symbolic welcoming gesture.

Dawn frowned slightly at the invitation, and suddenly withdrew into himself, like a frightened snail retracting into its shell.

"What's wrong?" Julie asked concernedly.

"Oh. Nothing. Um... I've got to go. Goodbye." Dawn quickly replied before rushing off without waiting for a reply. He was not yet ready to leave his father. But the time was coming.

* * * * *

Since it was widely known among the prisoners that Reverend Carter was always ready to offer up advice, Sonic and Julie came to him to ask what should be done about Dawn. When they posed their question, he looked genuinely surprised, and his brow furrowed in deep thought.

It only lasted a second, and then the Reverend's usual smile returned. From the concerned look on the pair's faces, he guessed that something was amiss far before they'd told him so.

"My heart bleeds for that boy. All he wants is to be loved," Carter sighed absently.

"Do you think there's a chance he can be convinced?" Sonic asked pointedly.

"Difficult to say. It may be hard to turn him without making him realize that his father doesn't truly love him. And once you do, it's possible he'll pull away entirely," Carter explained.

"The last thing I want to do is put him through any more hell. What do you suggest?" Julie asked softly. Carter thought another moment, and slowly made his answer.

"Use methods of positive persuasion. Convince him of how good the Rebellion is, not how evil the Regime is. He knows more about the Regime's cruelty than we could ever hope to know. Reminding him will only awaken latent trauma." Sonic nodded, as the corners of his lips turned upwards in a slight smile.

"I hope that we can take him with us when we return to the Rebellion."

"Are you entirely sure you are returning to the Rebellion?" Carter asked genuinely.

"But you said that Stevie is likely planning an escape at this very moment!" Julie protested in indignation.

"I did. And I also said that in nineteen years, there has _never_ been a successful escape from this camp. Just don't hold your breath."

"You were the one who told me to never stop believing! Do you need a lesson in hope now?" Sonic demanded, staring the Reverend down.

"All I'm saying is not to base all your hopes on escape. It's possible to continue to live your life down here," Carter sighed. Sonic considered this for a moment, but shook his head in disappointment.

"This place is Hell on earth. You can't have a life here, you could die any minute!"

"Exactly my point! This place has taught me more about how God wants us to live our lives than anything else in the world. Cherish every second. Appreciate everything. Love everyone. You learn that quickly when you realize that it could all be gone in a second. It's always that way you see. Just more down here," Carter insisted, while tapping his Bible as if pointing to evidence in a trial.

"I don't believe contentment with our situation is the answer!" Sonic shot back, meanwhile Julie remained carefully silent, observing their clashing philosophies apprehensively.

"I didn't say contentment, I said appreciation! You must learn to never take anything for advantage," Carter finished, and an uncomfortable silence filled the room. Julie was staring at the floor, her mind turbulent. It seemed to her that she agreed with whoever was speaking at that moment, then when it was Sonic's turn to make a point, his logic was better, but that the second Carter made his reply, he was correct.

"Maybe you're both right," she timidly offered.

"Milady, you have wisdom beyond your years. Don't doubt yourself," Carter smiled as the silence set in again. It rolled on and on, until finally, Sonic spoke.

"I see your point, but I've lived for so long without hope, that it's the only thing keeping me alive. If it's a choice between hope and happiness..."

"Maybe you don't have to settle for one. Because they're a part of the same whole," Carter replied, "You can hope for rescue, but you can't plan your entire existence on a distant hope. You have to live in the here and now."

"Be more specific," Sonic challenged, more or less demanding examples.

"For one thing, don't pursue a relationship with the boy sheerly with the intention of bringing him into the fold. Value him as a person, not an asset. He's had enough of that."

"Can't argue with that," Julie chimed in, as Sonic shrugged, defeated by that particular point.

"Okay, you've got me there. So you have one example. Big deal."

"And another thing. Don't go plotting elaborate revenge schemes against the King, Barett, or Amsel. For the Lord said 'Vengeance is mine.' Leave those matters to him."

"But they deserve to pay for what they've done!" Sonic objected, hate flowing back into his veins at the reminder of the atrocities he'd witnessed.

"And they will pay. But you'll not be the one to judge."

"Very well. Do you have any more words of wisdom, oh great master Carter?" Julie chuckled slightly at this, and as usual, the reverend ignored the insult.

"As a matter of fact I do. But you should've learned by now, I always have more preaching to do."

"How could I forget?" Sonic laughed slightly. But a somewhat serious look had come over the Reverend's face, and he kept turning from one of them to the other, as if gauging them for something.

Sonic turned to Julie, but she looked just as puzzled at he did, if not more. Looking back at Carter, Sonic stood nervously and quietly under the Reverend's scrutinizing gaze, and awaited whatever they were about to be told.

"As I've said many times, none of us know when our time will come. We could die at any time. I've also told you that you should do whatever you can to cherish the present, before it slips from your grasp.

"Normally, I'd advise patience, but under the current circumstances, and with my advice in mind, I believe that a course of action must be taken. It's obvious that you two are serious about your relationship, but I don't think you realize how little time you really could have.

"You've both mentioned that you are the King's personal prisoners, but take it from me, that's no guarantee. Taking into consideration that we are now in a death camp, and that we are not, from a fatalistic point of view, likely to ever escape said death camp, the situation must be addressed entirely differently.

"I think that you should both carefully consider what I have to say before you end up doing anything you'll regret later on. I advise that you take your relationship more seriously, as quickly as possible considering your limited amount of time. I'd like to give you some time to think about it, but I'd also like to be blunt.

"It is my opinion that, while you still have the chance, you two should consider getting married."


	10. Torture

**Chapter 10: Torture**

Sonic's mouth hung open as Julie's cheeks burned like an inferno. Carter's grin only grew from their response, and an uncomfortable pause followed his suggestion. They stood there, wordless and shocked, until finally, Sonic made a reply.

"But- but it's much too soon! I mean... you have to be sure about these things!" Sonic explained, while glancing nervously at Julie.

"And you're not sure?" Carter responded, while wringing his hands absently. Julie's blush had not subsided in the slightest, and she stood there in shocked silence, staring at him.

"It takes more thought than that! Don't you know the Regime will use it against us if they find out?"

"So let them make you afraid. Let them rule your lives. Just don't come crying to me."

"You're nuts! It's not that simple. There's kids to worry about. You could never survive a pregnancy down here!" Sonic was unaware, but the direction the conversation was taking was making Julie intensely uncomfortable. Carter realized this, and stood silent for a moment in thought.

"Don't let time pass you by."

"Don't lose any sleep over it," Sonic retorted. For once, Carter looked somewhat surprised by the abrasive comeback, and lowered his eyes to the ground. Sadness began to brim within the corners of his eyelids, and it seemed the very world was sombre.

"I just don't want you to make he same mistakes I did..." With no more than this as a goodbye, Carter slipped away into the darkness, leaving his haunting words echoing as the only reminder that he had ever been there at all.

* * * * *

Stevie squinted down in frustration at the map, as he brought down a pencil to scribble on it. Gathered silently around him was a small mob of officers, all peering down expectantly at the map, as if entranced by it.

The rebel leader was at that very moment, drawing out the battle plans that were to be used in the next attack. In the aftermath of the Battle of Roujin, the rebels had hid in the outskirts of the city and slowly chipped away at their enemy, never facing the Regime directly, but never idle against it.

Many a soldier had fallen before invisible snipers; slipping through the brush as undetectable as specters. There had been warehouse raids, sabotage, anything imaginable to weaken the Regime's hold on Station Square. But these were merely the preparatory operations. Everything so far was but a prelude to the symphony that was to come.

The greying ferret scratched out a line, and every man in the clump gave a half nod, as if taking mental note of the new line. The quiet hypnotism of the map was interrupted as Nathan came into the clearing, his chest heaving and eyes wide.

Stevie looked up in concern and curiosity, laying his pencil down to free his hands. After taking a moment to catch his breath, Nathan stomped over to stare down at his superior.

"What's the latest Nathan?" Stevie asked distantly, a cloudy emptiness in his eyes.

"They're getting harder to fool. We've been here too long, they're expecting us," The enormous black rebel panted, while wiping sweat from his brow.

"Perfect. Then everything is proceeding exactly as I hoped."

"Isn't it bad if they know we're coming?" Nathan asked in surprise, as he cocked an eyebrow.

"Ah, but they don't know we're coming. They know we're here. And they'll expect us to stay here. But what they won't expect is for us to attack the Capital again." Nathan sighed and shook his head, the dog tags from his latest kills stained with blood and jingling in his hand.

"This is taking far too long. Who knows what's happened by now..." Nathan drawled worriedly.

"Don't you fret. We'll make our attack soon enough. And when we do, that bastard will wish he'd never become king!" Stevie smirked and glanced around at his officers to nods of agreement. Nathan remained quiet a moment, and shifted uncomfortably at a chilling breeze. On the horizon a line of dark clouds, stretching as far as the eye could see brewed. A storm was coming.

"Very well. But let me tell you one thing Stevie. I'm not leaving that city without Julie and Sonic in tow. And nothing you say will change that." Nathan put his foot down, literally as well as figuratively, and Stevie only smiled weakly in response.

"You and me both. But I've got some other scores to settle."

* * * * *

Shadow sat in his throne and sulked. Any of his attendants would've told that he was in a particularly foul mood today; refusing even an audience with his only son. His generals would tell you that he had a reason to be furious.

After the attack on Roujin, his troops had been utterly incapable of ensnaring the rebels responsible. On top of that, his forces had been continuously assailed by hit and run attacks.

He had sent out countless numbers of troops, but no matter how many he sent, the rebels would evade them, send them back limping or dead, and continue their rampage.

Even more disturbing was the fact that after every attack, every loss, he received a message from the Rebellion. They were untraceable, and every one's contents were the same simple message: "check."

He had asked every expert there was, but none had any insights as to the meaning of the cryptic messages. It was time for some answers. It was time for him to be in control again.

"Guard, bring Dr. Amsel to me immediately." The soldier nodded, and hurriedly left to complete his duty.

The dark king continued to brood from his massive throne while he waited for the doctor to arrive. The darkness of the room ensheathed him like a velvety blanket, and his eyes flicked around sporadically.

Light spilled into the room as a door hissed open. The nefarious doctor, covered in blood from mid-operation, approached the throne and bowed deeply and ceremoniously.

"For what purpose do you summon your unworthy servant, your Grace?"

"It is time," the King replied without moving anything but his lips, which barely even quivered.

"Already?" Amsel asked in genuine surprise.

"It is long overdue." There was silence, as Amsel retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped a residual drop of blood off his monocle.

"What will General Barett think?" Shadow growled in irritation at the mention of the general; causing Amsel to falter for a moment.

"Barett is quickly losing my favor. He nearly lost control of Block 4. A prisoner uprising now would be disastrous. He is treading in stormy waters."

"So then, we _won't_ include him?" Amsel seemed pleased that his master held Barett in such low esteem, seeing it as a chance for his advancement.

"Of course not. Why share the fun?" Shadow grinned sadistically, while clenching his hands into fists. "I have some other business to attend to first. You go on ahead, and I'll meet you there."

The dark king's lips twisted into a devilish grin, and Amsel nodded. After rendering a salute, the doctor turned and left, leaving the King in his darkness.

After a moment, Shadow stood and left through a different way.

* * * * *

"Em, well. Are you entirely sure you want to know?" Asked the thin little man with perfectly circular glasses that shimmered like dual moons.

The King sighed in irritation, and scowled at his attendant.

"If I hadn't wanted to know, I wouldn't have asked you. Tell me what it means immediately," Shadow snarled irritably. His psychiatrist squirmed uncomfortably, and sighed deeply.

"You won't like this. You tell me that in your dream, you were being chased by what seemed to be a monstrous version of yourself," the doctor he had asked to interpret his earlier nightmare began. The King nodded, and began to tap his foot. The spectacled man decided to hurry.

"You also told me that the beastly you devoured not just you but someone else. Was it someone you really knew, or a fictitious person?"

"I used to know her," Shadow growled.

"So she's dead then. What were the circumstances surrounding her death?" he asked, without knowing he was referring to Rouge.

"Suicide." Shadow breathed this one word quietly, almost as if it pained him to even say it. His eyes slowly closed as he rubbed his temples; a headache was beginning to flare in his skull.

"From this I can only guess one thing. For some reason, you subconsciously blame yourself for her death, and therefore, the monstrous you killed her in your dream. Would you mind elaborating more on the subject?" The dream therapist said as he jotted down notes on a pad.

"She... she said... I can't."

"Excuse me sire?" he asked as he looked up from his notes in surprise. There before him, was the mighty, heartless king, his eyes brimming with tears.

"She couldn't stand me! She said that it was better to die than live with me!** I drove her to her death!**" Shadow screamed as he glared angrily at the psychiatrist.

"Now sire, you mustn't be so hard on yourself. She may have had underlying trauma and been trying to blame you for it. Any number of things could have been going on." From his thoughtful and truthful answers, it was obvious that the therapist genuinely wanted to help Shadow, really wanted him to be happy.

"Leave me." The dark king commanded. The psychologist didn't move. "Get out of my sight!"

"The Prince, is he hers?" He asked sadly, while stepping towards the sobbing dictator.

"**Begone!**" Shadow surged out of his chair, his nostrils flaring in rage.

"It was her choice, not yours. You-" the psychiatrist was silenced as an iron grip coiled around his throat, choking the air out of him and ending his sentence.

"I didn't kill her I tell you! I loved her!" The King bellowed as his hands tightened on the poor man's trachea. His victim only released a pained gasp in reply, as his eyes bulged out of their sockets.

"I know what is best! **I know how to raise my own son!**" Shadow's voice had risen to a desperate, animal scream, and the therapist convulsed one final time, and went limp. The King released the dead psychiatrist, and allowed his breathing to slow to a steady rhythm.

"Suicide," he whispered, as he left the body there and turned to slip away. He fled from his own darkness, by burying himself deeper in blood.

* * * * *

The Regime guard sighed as he squinted out at the horizon. His view was mostly blocked by trees, and all the recent rebel attacks had come from the opposite side of Station Square, so he couldn't help but wonder why he was here.

"Stupid. That's what it is. Just plain..." he drawled off before taking a draught of alcohol. The watch tower shuddered in the wind, but he was far too drunk to notice, and his partner was sleeping like the dead.

They did not notice the shadowy figure passing through the undergrowth, did not anticipate his approach. Nathan stole up to the side of the tower, hesitating a moment to make sure he had not been seen. When the guards made no sound, he planted a bomb on the side of the tower, and hurried past.

His usual heavy machine gun was discarded in favor of a silenced sniper rifle, and he was completely covered from head to toe in camouflage. Taking cover behind a wall, he waited in silence as three soldiers passed by on patrol.

As soon as they passed, he continued on, darting inside the open door of a warehouse, and planting several of his explosives on the weapons store inside. Smirking at the damage that was about to be done to the Regime, he exited the building and moved on to his next target.

Ducking around corners and hiding in shadows, he avoided all detection from the unsuspecting, but admittedly numerous guards. Station Square's main advantage is that it was connected to practically the rest of the major cities in the continent by rail. The majority of the Regime's troops maneuvers were made that way, and the city had practically grown dependent on its rail system.

Nathan was now in one of the Regime's outlying train stations, hoping to cripple their movements by sabotaging their transportation.

He bolted inside one of the trains, leaping into the engine car, gun at the ready. When he found it unoccupied, he breathed a sigh of relief, and planted several of the bombs on the engine. He held his breath as an officer passed and peeked into the car, but the soldier passed by the next second. He remained undiscovered.

Finally, he prepared for the last part of his mission. Coming up to a large red brick wall, he retrieved a can of white spray paint, and began to graffiti on the wall. When he was done, he snapped a photograph, and sent it as a message to the King. His work of art was a single word, whose meaning was soon to be unveiled.

'Check.'

Many such attacks had occurred over the last couple days, all with the same mysterious, if not slightly silly finale. Anything to get inside the King's paranoid head.

At that very moment, Knuckles was on his own mission, on the other side of Station Square. But Nathan had no time to think about that. Moving at incredible speed for his size, the rebel stole out of the facility and made for the dense foliage at the edge of the clearing.

No sooner had he dived into the greenery than he was grinning in expectation of the imminent explosion.

_"Pig head, this is Mack truck, come in Pig head,"_ his radio crackled quietly.

"This is pig head. The deliveries have all been made, and light is green for go," he replied in a hushed tone.

_"Then you may proceed with the fireworks at your own discretion. Mack truck out."_ Despite the fact that he wasn't talking to a person who could see him, Nathan nodded enthusiastically, and retrieved the detonator from his back pocket.

Disabling the safety, he positioned his thumb above the massive, red activation button.

"Hope they like the extra patriotic fireworks I left 'em. The bastards could use a little cheer," he snickered, as he rubbed his thumb on the button. He paused for a moment, thinking of something momentous, something memorable to say. He wracked his brain for the most compelling speeches he could remember, but only one thing seemed appropriate.

"There are some who call me... Tim!" he exclaimed as he pushed the button. At his command, explosions erupted from about a half dozen different locations across the station, causing flames to leap up into the air, clawing at the night sky. The screams of Regime flunkies were a sweet song in his ear, and he reveled in the music of destruction for a moment.

Then, when he was done taking in the full majesty of his work, he turned, and slipped into the forest, as undetectable as a phantom in the crisp night.

* * * * *

The night that Nathan had slipped into was also present above the Rebel base, casting the silvery glow of the moon off of the installation. The place the rebels had chosen to make their home was like a fortified city, with water towers, and massive warehouses, military facilities and suburbs alike.

Stevie had said many times that the Rebellion was as much a movement of social disobedience as civil disobedience, and the rebels had formed their own self contained society of about fifty thousand people

Absent from the base were any of the Regime's polluting smokestacks, and the base sat upon a jutting cliff, which fell down into a massive, beautiful lake. It was hidden from the Regime by the most advanced stealth technology in the world, which caused it to appear on a radar as nothing more than a big rock, not nearly close to its actual size.

That left the Regime to find the base by sending troop patrols looking for it, and often these patrols didn't even return. Even when they did, their searches were fruitless, the countryside was simply too big to allow them to find the rebel base, forcing the Regime to fight only on the defensive.

Which was Stevie's entire strategy. Deep in the glimmering city, a wheelchair bound fox tucked his children into bed, and with bowed head, spoke a prayer for the safety of his friends who were in the field, and for the captured Sonic.

If only he knew what the cerulean hero was about to suffer.

* * * * *

Sonic blinked as light suddenly came to the room, blinding him for a moment before he had a chance to adjust. The walls and ceiling of the room were completely bare, and white, making them blend into each other as if they were a never ending cycle of white.

The hero struggled to get up, and found that in typical cowardly Regime fashion, his ankles and wrists were clasped with extremely strong metal bands. No matter how hard he strained or squirmed, his bonds did not budge, did not creak, did not bend.

A door opened in one of the walls, despite the fact that it looked indistinguishable from the rest of the blank white. Through it walked the King, a spiked, metal crown on his head. Following directly behind him was Dr. Amsel, a devilish sneer contrasting sharply to Shadow's empty stare.

At the appearance of his old friend, Sonic became violent, and attacked the metal bands with all his might.

"You're wasting your strength. You don't even know what I intend to do," Shadow scoffed, as he stepped closer to his victim. Amsel rubbed his hands in anticipation, and watched closely.

"You have proved yourself a worthy enemy. And you may yet prove an even more valuable friend. So I will give you one chance. Cooperate completely. Join me, and you can have your heart's desire! Money, power, food, women could be yours for the taking. Anything you could possibly lust after," Shadow explained, while retaining his empty, neutral expression. Sonic glared hatefully at his former friend, and made his response.

"I would die before I would join your oppressive empire! You are evil itself!" he shouted, but Shadow seemed unmoved. The King released a long sigh, before turning to Amsel.

The doctor handed him a syringe, which was filled with a purple liquid. When he turned to Sonic, a smirk had formed at the edges of his lips.

"It is a pity. Perhaps I've misjudged you. In any case, I have some questions for you. Answers to those questions would be most helpful. We'll play a little game. The object of this game is to be alive at the end. I'll ask you a question, and for every wrong answer you give me, I'll torture you. However, each successive wrong answer will increase the degree of the agony, thanks to this pain inducing serum," The King explained. Sonic only glared in response.

"Very well then. Let's begin. Doctor, if you wouldn't mind." At his command, Amsel attached several electrodes to Sonic's body, and handed what appeared to be a remote control to Shadow. The serum was placed on a table next to Sonic's chair.

"First question. Where is the Master Emerald?" Shadow gripped Sonic's chin as if he was scolding a misbehaving child, and spoke softly yet sternly. Sonic did not answer.

Shadow pressed the button, and electricity flowed into Sonic through the electrodes, providing him a momentary jolt, before the pain ended.

"Wrong answer. I'll ask again. Where is the Master Emerald?" this time he spoke a little louder, and Sonic looked him in the eye.

"I don't know where it is!" he shouted, and the King snarled in anger.

"But you know who has it! Who took my Emerald?" Shadow growled, as Sonic shook his head. After a long moment of quiet, he increased the voltage, and delivered the hero another electric shock. This time, the pain was worse as a burning sensation flared in the back of his skull.

"Ah! Stop! Knuckles has it!" Sonic begged, and the moment he did, the electrocution ceased.

"Good. If you had shown more cooperation, I wouldn't have had to do that," Shadow sneered. "Next question.

"What is the location of the rebel base?" The air hung silent after Shadow's question, as sweat began to run down Sonic's brow.

"I'll ask nicely one more time. What is the location of the rebel base?" Shadow gripped Sonic's head now, forcing the hero to look into his vermillion eyes.

"Burn in hell." Shadow growled loudly, as he began to shake Sonic, and yelling at him.

"Do you understand that I'll kill you! I will kill you! Now tell me!" he stood back, and turned the dial on his control to the maximum voltage that would not kill his victim.

"Tell me!" Sonic screamed in pain as a torrent of lightning entered his body from the electrodes, burning his nerves, and tearing white hot pain through his skull. And yet, Sonic found he still had the ability to speak.

"Screw you!" he screamed amidst the agony, causing Shadow to seethe in fury. The flood of electrocution continued coursing through his body, searing his insides and burning him.

"You will tell me or you will die!" The King screamed, as Sonic continued to writhe like a rag doll being shaken. Tears began to stream down Sonic's face as the pain continued. But his tears were not for his own pain. They were for the loss of his old friend.

Truly, the Shadow he had once known was dead now. The being standing before him and demanding to know the location of the last vestige of hope in the world, so that he could destroy it, was the devil himself.

"You've lost. This is the best you can do? Put your money where your mouth is _your majesty._ **Kill me!**" Sonic screamed amidst the constant agony. Angrily Shadow picked up the serum designed to increase the victim's pain.

"You have one last chance. This serum will increase the amount of pain you can feel before dying by three times. Tell me the location of the rebel base, and I will kill you quickly." Shadow had regained his calm, as he held the syringe aloft over Sonic's arm.

"I'll never tell you. So why don't you just hit me with your best shot?" Shadow sighed, and looked down at the writhing Sonic, a look of disdain on his face.

"If your bravado weren't so foolish, it might be admirable. Your spirit remains unbroken. But everyone has their limits. Even the strongest of people must eventually fall. Everyone can be bought for a high enough price, and everyone has something they cannot possibly endure."

"You can't put a price on freedom, and I can endure any amount of pain in its name," Sonic cockily replied over the electrical flow. At this, Shadow plunged the syringe into Sonic's arm, as Amsel clapped in glee.

The moment the serum hit his blood stream, Sonic felt as if he'd been hit by a truck. The pain from the electricity had suddenly become so voracious he felt as if his insides were being torn out. It was as if he was set on fire, and then thrown into a meat grinder, all the while being jabbed with knives.

He screamed in agony and outrage, and had to bite his tongue to keep the knowledge from bursting from his lips. He bit himself so hard that he could taste the blood he had drawn, as the torrent began to cloud his senses.

"Do you not feel death approaching you even now? Can you endure this same torment every day for twenty years? I think not." Sonic prayed he would have the strength to endure until the blackness consumed him, until he lost consciousness, or died.

Either would be a reprieve. Meanwhile, miles away, preparations were mounting for the second attack on the Capital, the prison break that would free Sonic and Julie, and thousands of others from the Valley of Death.

But would they make it in time?


	11. Strategy

**Chapter 11: Strategy**

Shadow screamed in anger as Sonic blacked out, the precious knowledge of the location of the rebel base still contained within him. Amsel was silent as the king brooded, his anger bubbling over dangerously.

The entire room was still now that Sonic was done convulsing, and the electrical flow had shut off automatically when he had lost consciousness. But none of this was what had infuriated the mighty king.

What enraged him the most was his failure. He had not beaten Sonic, had not extracted the information from him. A vein began to pound in the side of his head as his fury reached its peak.

But gradually, his breathing slowed, and Amsel gathered enough courage to speak.

"My lord, forgive my impertinence but, what is our next course of action?" he said timidly, hoping that the king would not lash out at him.

Granting his wish, Shadow turned slowly to face him, his expression neutral. "Have a guard return him to the camp. I'll question him again when he's regained his strength," he replied quietly, surprising Amsel more than he would have with a harsh reprimand.

"As you command sire." Amsel nodded, turning to complete the king's instruction. Shadow remained behind in the room, alone with Sonic's unconscious form.

Despite the passing of his anger, the pulse in his brain continued to beat, resounding in his head like an iron bell.

After Amsel had been gone for quite awhile, Shadow turned, and began to walk towards Sonic's motionless body, his eyes intent but his face stoic. Then, as if Sonic could hear him, he spoke.

"You... you represent everything they stand for. You embody everything I hate. It's almost poetic, the eternal struggle between the individual and the will of the masses," he muttered, not seeming to notice that Sonic was out cold. "But in a way it's sad, your struggle is by all accounts, hopeless. You may have strength to defy me for now, but with each passing day, I whittle away your rebellion until nothing but dust remains."

The cerulean hero said nothing against these accusations.

"Silent. Such is to be expected. But you will come to see in time. I will have the final victory Sonic. In the end, you cannot avoid my wrath." Interrupting his diatribe, a pair of soldiers entered the room, summoned by the doctor to take Sonic back to the Valley of Death

Shadow glared at both of them, but said nothing, allowing them to carry Sonic away, leaving him all alone.

"You have chosen your fate." With this as his parting remark, the obsidian hedgehog turned and left the torture chamber, the lights flicking off as he left.

* * * * *

A Regime patrol guard did a double take when he thought he saw something. Shining his flashlight in the direction of the disturbance, he peered closer, hoping to see nothing, and be able to move on.

He received what he had hoped for. Shrugging nonchalantly, he continued on his duty, marching around the outside of the storehouse like a wind up soldier.

Out of the bush he had inspected and deemed safe came the barrel of a sniper rifle, disguised to look like a branch. Within the bush, the rebel agent bided his time, and waited for the guard to turn his back.

Thanks to a silencer, a quick pop and the man was lying face down in a puddle of his own blood, breathing one second and dead the next.

The commando vacated the bush, coming up to the building to check for more guards. When he found none, he gave a hand signal.

Once it had been announced that it was all clear, about a dozen agents dressed in black stole forward out of various greenery, all meeting up with the original rebel sniper.

"Alright Nathan, you got the codes?" the masked rebel asked in his mild australian accent, revealing him to be Stevie.

"What do you mean do I have the codes? Of course I've got 'em!" he said indignantly.

"Well just hurry up and open the door then," Stevie responded, gesturing to the giant locked door that blocked their entrance into the storehouse.

Obeying, Nathan stooped down to the number pad next to the door, removing his glove so that he could press a single key at a time, which was hard enough with his gigantic fingers.

"You should all be grateful. It took me three days to hunt down the officer that had these codes!" Nathan snorted while he began punching in the numbers to unlock the door. "Took two shots to down 'im too, one more than usual."

"Oh be quiet you baby," Stevie mock scolded, earning a scoff. The next moment, the door slid open, allowing them access to the storage facility.

Two guards were downed with nothing more than a couple muffled pops and a quiet grunt of pain to commemorate their deaths. Nathan snatched two more dog tags for his collection.

"Ah, here it is. The mother-load," the ferret commented in anticipation of the upcoming battle.

"Yeah, more like doom for the mother-"

"Nathan, we have some younger agents with us. You know how much I dislike that word," Stevie grinned. "But anything else you want to say about him is fine."

"No point now. Anyways, I get the one with the black skull on it." Nathan said as he stepped towards their prize.

"Alright, fine. Do we all know the plan?" Stevie asked one final time before they embarked.

He received several nods of understanding. Giving them all a thumbs up, he turned towards his chosen vehicle.

The dozen or so rebels that had infiltrated the Regime storage facility boarded the tanks that were stored there. Pushing the ignition in, they were rewarded with mighty roars from the bellies of the iron beasts.

The rebels drove out of the storage facility in Regime tanks.

* * * * *

Deep within the Imperial Palace, the King was busy conferencing with his new Minister of Defense.

From his confrontational manner, anyone could guess that the dictatorial hedgehog was not happy.

But one could also raise the point that he rarely was.

Concerned for the preservation of his life, the minister was trying his best to diffuse the King's temper.

"How many raids were there yesterday?" Shadow growled as he cradled his head in his hand.

"Em, well... in the immediate Station Square area, three instillations were sabotaged, four convoys captured, and over one hundred and fifty soldiers reported killed or missing in action."

Shadow snarled at this news, and slammed a clenched fist onto the table.

"Sire, you needn't worry about such petty losses. It's not good for your health," the minister warned.

"Paltry losses today add up to total defeat in years to come. Clearly, the capital is undermanned," the king of darkness hissed.

"Your majesty, this could be a rebel ploy to draw troops away from their intended target. We've been tracking their attacks and estimate that we will discover their base of operations within a week," the minister urged, while hoping very dearly that his estimate would be accurate.

The King pondered this for a moment, causing an expectant silence to fall over the dark room.

Breaking the silence, a beep emanated from the minister, causing him to hurriedly pull a handheld out of his pocket and glance at it in worry.

"What is it?" the ebony king echoed, remaining completely motionless.

"Er, nothing sire. Don't trouble yourself." Shadow heaved a long sigh, and stood up to stare at the minister with his chilling vermillion eyes.

"What has happened now?" he growled, baring his teeth.

"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you, sire. Apparently the Rebellion just sabotaged a radar station in the northern part of the city," he sighed.

"But why would they..." Shadow paused. "It can't be!"

"Sire, I assure you that-"

"Shut up. Give orders for all nearby troops to return immediately to Station Square, no exceptions," Shadow breathed, his eyes wide.

No sooner had he finished speaking than the minister's handheld beeped numerous times in direct succession. Looking down in disbelief, the minister stared in shock at the screen, which reported attacks to him as they happened.

"Y-your grace!" the minister gasped, "They've destroyed every rail depot in the city... simultaneously!" The King screamed curses in fury, before bearing down on the minister.

"Perform well, or this battle will be your last. Belay that first order. Contact Colonel Myers, and tell him to airlift in two legions of my best troops posthaste," he grimly instructed.

The minister left to perform his duties.

Shadow was alone in the war room, gazing down at the screen of the minister's handheld, left behind in his urgency.

Suddenly, the screen flashed, and a message appeared.

_"Report this to your bastard King,"_ it read. Scrolling down the page, he revealed photographic documentation of the attacks on the train stations, each one with the same cryptic word scrawled into it.

_"Check."_

Finally, he came to the bottom, the final image. It was a photograph of a chess piece.

A black king in flames.

Under it was written the phrase which has ended many a contest of wit over the years.

_"Checkmate."_

* * * * *

As Shadow busied himself with the message, the rebels infiltrated the city. They came into the city with stolen Regime trucks and tanks. Each second, their numbers swelled as they threw weapons to the endless tides of oppressed civilians.

Of course, no sooner had they set foot in the city than they were assaulted on all sides by the Regime's Army.

But for every rebel that fell, a citizen of Station Square would pick up his weapon, and fight in his place. A cheer rose up amidst the rebels as their stolen tanks arrived, laying waste to the defending Regime soldiers. Nathan's tank emblazoned with a black skull, was in the front, the point of the spear.

Pushing past the Regime's blockade with their heavy firepower, the tanks thundered deeper into the city, followed by a mob of enraged rebels. Bullets flew; bombs and grenades threw corpses into the air as anarchy ensued. A titanic struggle began in Regime Square, as the rebels continued to force their way deeper into the city.

The body count began to rise, but civilians continued to flood the battlefield, taking up arms to avenge all wrongs. This caused the soldiers to begin treating all civilians as enemies, and they began mass slaughter of all bystanders; an improvised genocide.

The fact that the rebels had discreetly sabotaged most of the Regime's means of transporting, supplying, and informing their troops certainly gave the side of liberty an advantage, one that was all too precious and necessary for victory.

From the tops of the buildings, Regime troops began to fire bazookas at the stolen tanks, sending blazing rockets screaming down. Unfortunately for the Regime, they had more or less designed their tanks to be indestructible, with reinforced shock absorbing armor.

Oops.

The tank mortars shredded their opponents as easily as Nathan could snap a twig, causing utter mayhem within the Regime ranks. After a long and bloody fire-fight, the soldiers pulled back, leaving their dead like nothing more than animals.

Hundreds of rebels had been slaughtered, and hundreds more "innocents" who had joined their cause had fallen alongside them in their desperate struggle for freedom. But as time has shown again and again, the will of the people cannot be ignored forever.

The Regime had learnt a thing or two since the battle at Roujin, and had positioned snipers in the windows of the buildings surrounding the palace. Thirty rebels dropped dead upon stepping into the square, their blood splattering onto their companions. The rebels' stolen armor opened fire on the snipers, sending explosive balls of shrapnel flying towards them, and lighting up the sky.

Half of them died the moment the projectiles made contact. The rest were slain as their buildings came crashing to the ground, leaving nothing but rubble remaining to mark their graves of concrete and steel. Shattered glass lay everywhere, intermixed with blood and bodies, some severed in pieces.

Troops flooded out of the Royal Palace, peppering the valiant rebels in a devastating rain of lead. The rebellion troops replied with their own barrage, which included several tank mortars, mowing down a huge number of their enemies.

A looming shadow appeared to the right of them, as several loyal Regime tanks arrived to even the odds. Immediately the two armor groups traded fire, sending fiery red bolts flying over the battlefield, which now lay littered in bodies amidst the tense conflict. It had just begun.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, far below the city in the Valley of Death, the Regime's prisoners heard the commotion above. They had all come out to listen, and stood huddled underneath the source of the sound, silently hoping for a rebel victory.

Most of the soldiers guarding the camp had already gone up to the surface to participate in the battle, and were not present to watch over them. Only Barrett and his personal guard remained.

Sonic and Julie stood and stared at the rumbling ceiling, holding hands, and praying for a miracle.

The cerulean hedgehog was not entirely recovered from his previous ordeal, but repeated exposure to such large amounts of pain had rendered him able to bounce back more quickly. It was as if his youth was slowly returning to him. Even in the Valley of Death, he felt better now than he ever had under the Regime. Now he was with Julie. And when he was actually with the Rebellion, he had felt as if he could run six hundred miles per hour again.

Carter was there with them, his ever-present smile still beaming. Almost as if he'd known the rebel attack was coming.

When asked about this, he simply stated,

"Stevie's come back for me. But this time, all heaven's wrath has come with him."

Sonic pondered this a moment, and then frowned as a solemn look came to the reverend's face. Sonic was about to ask him what was wrong, when Carter answered the unspoken question.

"I guess you were right after all. No reason to get married down here. Still, I had hoped to be the one to perform the ceremony," he mused.

"You still can be!" Sonic replied indignantly, which Carter responded to with a snort.

"If only you knew how impossible that is," the reverend smirked.

"What do you mean?" Julie asked worriedly. Carter looked at her a moment, as if seeing her for the first time, and then slowly made his reply.

"Years ago I swore an oath that I would not leave this place until every other prisoner was gone. My ministry is here," he said carefully, as if afraid to offend Sonic.

"We're not leaving without you!" Julie insisted.

"Don't be silly my girl. I'm a reverend. It is my duty to seek and save the lost. You are soldiers. It is your duty to fight those responsible." There was a silence, even a lull in the battle above, as if the whole world were frozen in solemnity.

"He's right," Sonic stated with a strange finality.

"Of course I am. Now you two go and get that boy, and take him with you," Carter ordered. Sonic stared at him in surprise, immediately knowing that he was referring to Dawn.

"We can't raise that kid! Neither of us know anything about being parents!" Sonic objected, earning a scolding glare from Julie.

"No-one does before they try. It's a learning process. Besides, anything would be better than what he has now," she stated in indignation

"The assassin lady is right. You kinda have to just wing it. Now, there isn't much time left. Go!"

As Sonic and Julie hurried away, the ceiling continued to tremble.

"God help them," were Reverend Carter's final words before he went back to his barracks to be alone.

* * * * *

Above the Valley of Death, a ferocious battle was waging. The Regime's reinforcements had arrived to counteract the near endless supply of sympathetic people ready to join the rebel's ranks, and their progress had been gradually slowed to a halt.

They were maddeningly close, no more than a hundred feet from the palace, with hundreds of guards flooding in to stop their advance. By now, a couple of the rebel's tanks had been destroyed, and many more that had been the enemy's lay smoldering and useless.

Stevie and Nathan had left their tanks, handing over the controls, and taking up leadership positions. The wizened ferret was gunning down enemy troops like a soldier half his age and directing their efforts, while Nathan had taken his post on a roof top, brandishing sniper rifle and RPG to maximum effect. Like a huge, black, one man army. His condition was that he'd fight like a whole army as long as he got to eat like one.

A frustrating predicament had arisen. The palace could not be captured without great loss, and over time, the Regime could surely grind them to dust; it's army a juggernaut. But if they could not push to the palace, everything they had done would be for nothing.

The stakes were high. Tensions mounted.

Suddenly, all firing stopped as a collective gasp spread over the rebels, and the Regime soldiers stood motionless and erect, faces forward and guns at their sides.

A dark figure had appeared in the doorway of the palace.

Who he was became immediately obvious by the spiked iron crown resting on his head, and the curved black scepter in his hand, it's head an ebony cobra. His body was covered in a long, velvety obsidian cloak, and his eyes scanned over the rebels, sending a chill up each and every spine.

Except one.

Seeing his opportunity, Nathan took a shot, but was surprised to see the infamous dictator sidestep his bullet without even flinching. Ignoring the attempt on his life with an almost bored expression, he surveyed the rebels, and spoke.

"Let the treasonous ferret known as Stephen step forward," he commanded. To everyone's surprise, the rebel leader complied.

"The King. I'm sorry to say that I'm not glad to meet you," Stevie remarked as he walked up the steps.

"I can't possibly imagine why," Shadow said in sarcasm as he rolled his eyes.

"I read your book you know. The Black Book. It was a nice long read. I took notes too. I must've filed a hundred things under the tendencies of a psychopath."

Shadow stared at him levelly, and smirked. "Be careful, or you might hurt my feelings. Dictators are not known for weakness."

"What? You're the totalitarian dictator? Well I didn't vote for you!" Stevie snapped, causing Shadow to growl.

"Let's cut to the chase. Surrender yourself to me now, and your men will all go free." Stevie blinked and stared at him as if he were the stupidest person in the world.

"Are you kidding? This job is better than cable!" Stevie exclaimed, earning quizzical looks from those present who hadn't experienced the phenomenon. "I may not be able to kill you... but that sure as hell won't stop me from trying." Stevie whispered, before tearing a twelve gauge shotgun from the grip of a nearby soldier.

Shadow didn't have time to breathe before three shells collided with his head, knocking him to the ground, and completely unconscious.

A victorious cry erupted from the rebels, who believed the King to be dead. Surging forward, they demolished the remaining guards within moments, and rushed up to the palace.

Stevie stood over Shadow's defeated form, a smirk on his face. "Now, if you'll excuse me, your royal grumpiness, I have business to attend to," he laughed, racing into the palace right behind Nathan.

The rebels flooded inside, throwing open doors and grabbing anything that looked valuable, which was almost everything. After the place had been ransacked, they discovered the military entrance to the Valley of Death, which would grant them all entry.

A giant metal door, wide enough for an entire army to come through.

Nathan stepped forward, rocket launcher slung over his shoulder and his shirt soaked through with sweat.

"Let's blow this place wide open!" Stevie shouted, grabbing his own RPG. "On your command, Nathan."

The black rebel breathed deeply and peered down the scope, the fulfillment of his ambition nearly complete.

"Knock knock, bitches!" he thundered as he pulled the trigger. A moment later, Stevie and several others fired as well, completely destroying the mighty door.

Nothing but a few jagged scraps of metal remained.

The rebels rushed into the Valley of Death, weapons drawn and ready for anything.

* * * * *

Aware that there was a sizable guard which had fled to the camp, the rebels burst in, and immediately threw a stockpile of extra weapons into the hands of the prisoners.

One such weapon landed in the hands of the young boy Jonathan. And he knew exactly what he was going to do with it. Ignoring the battle going on around him, he walked slowly and ceremoniously towards the "Hospital." Hiding the gun as he walked through the front door, he turned to the secretary, his face a ghostly mask.

"I need to see the doctor. Where is he?" he asked. She couldnt help but shudder at the sight of the deformities bestowed on him by Amsel, and he noticed.

"Um, do- do you have an- an appointment?" she asked. He drew his weapon and pointed it at her head, the barrel of the pistol falling directly between her eyes.

Point blank.

"The doctor has an appointment with the gatekeeper of Hell, and I'm going to make sure he's not late. Now, where is he?" Jonathan said quietly, all the while, the tip of the gun pressing into her head.

"He's in the operating room, on the third floor!" she whimpered, her voice sounding incredibly small and weak.

"Good. Now turn around, run away, and never look back," he commanded. She shakily did as she was told.

Stepping up to the elevator door, he pushed the up button, and disengaged the safety on his pistol. Before he even picked up the weapon, when he first set his heart on revenge, he vowed never to hurt an innocent person.

Riding the elevator up two floors, he stepped off, his murder tool in hand.

He could hear the screams of Amsel's victim.

As he walked closer, pictures of mutilated corpses flooded his memory, as David's haunting laugh danced in his eardrums. His scream became one with the ones echoing down the hallways as he was transported back into the operating bed. Again, scalpels sliced up and down his flesh. Again, salt flooded into his wounds, causing them to burn with an unbearable fire.

He slammed the door of the OR open, a primal, furious scream escaping his lips. Amsel turned around in surprise to see a pistol pointed to his forehead.

"It's time to pay for your crimes, doctor." A moment of fear flashed across Amsel's features, before he gulped, and decided to play Jonathan's game.

"Are you sure you have the guts to shoot me boy?" Amsel laughed weakly, his lab coat soaked in blood.

"It's much too good a death for you, but it'll have to do. I'll leave the rest of your punishment to the god you serve," Jonathan snapped.

"And what god is that?" Amsel smiled, knowing that his time had come.

"The god of suffering. Lucifer," Jonathan growled through clenched teeth.

"Alright. Finish it. But be wary that your quest for revenge doesn't transform you into the very thing you hate."

Jonathan pulled the trigger.

A resounding bang.

Amsel's blood and brains spilled forth onto the wall, staining it a vibrant crimson. Jonathan was splashed in this scarlet tide, as Amsel's lifeless corpse fell to the ground.

To the boy's intermixed horror and satisfaction, he felt nothing. No sadistic joy, no satisfaction, no remorse.

He was numb.

"It is almost finished." he said, "Only one thing remains. To relieve Barrett of his post."

* * * * *

Stevie and the other rebels tore through the Valley of Death, slaughtering the oppressive guards and destroying their instruments of terror.

Gallows were torn down. Gas chambers were blown to pieces. Crematoriums torn to shreds. Chains were broken.

Thousands joined the rebels' ranks as Stevie rushed for the General's Quarters. Arriving to find the door already open, he burst in, gun at the ready.

He stopped cold at the sight that lay before him.

There in the room was a boy who looked to be in his mid teens, gruesome scars tearing down his body. Whimpering on the floor under his pistol was Barrett, the cruel master of the Valley of Death.

"Who are you?" Jonathan asked, surprised by the appearance of the ferret.

"I'm the owner of that pistol. Kid, the torments that will be imposed on that bastard when the King finds out about the prison break are far worse than anything you could devise. Leave him."

"You'll never get away with this!" Barrett screamed, his eyes wide in terror.

"You know, everybody always says that. But the interesting thing is that it's something a loser says, so I've never seen an instance where it turned out to be true..." Stevie pondered. "Hey kid, didn't you hear me? Put the pistol down."

Jonathan, tears in his eyes, explained his personal hatred of the general to Stevie. The rebel leader remained quiet for a moment, as if deep in thought, before laying a hand on Jonathan's shoulder.

"Give him a bullet to the kneecap so that he can't escape the King." Nodding, Jonathan squeezed the trigger a second time. A scream erupted from the building as Stevie walked out with Jonathan at his side.

"It doesn't make much sense for me to keep calling you 'kid,' so why don't you tell me your name," Stevie said, while handing his companion a second pistol.

"Jonathan... the Avenger."

"Avenger eh? Well, I hope you don't mind if I call you Jonny," the greying ferret commented. Jonathan shook his head as another rebel draped a black trench-coat over his bare chest.

"Go get 'em Mr. Avenger."

* * * * *

Dawn was frightened by the rebel attack. Hugging his legs to his body, he had hid in a corner when the tremors began, and remained there ever since. When gunshots sounded in the Valley of Death, he began crying in terror.

He had simply been on his way to come visit Sonic and Julie when the attack commenced, and was surprised by the violence and bloodshed. The couple found him there, huddled pitifully in a corner, the ground wet from his tears.

"Dawn, it's going to be okay. We're going to get you out of here," Sonic assured the young hedgehog, whose beautiful violet eyes were wide in fear.

"What do you mean?" he sobbed, knowing practically nothing outside the palace, and not anticipating their intentions in the slightest.

"Our friends have come to save us. We can take you with us. You can join the Rebellion," Julie coaxed, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"But what about my father?" Dawn sniffled, his tears beginning to clear up a bit.

"Do you believe that your father loves you Dawn?" Sonic genuinely asked. The boy was silent. It seemed time had frozen.

Even the gunshots quieted. Dawn gazed into Sonic's eyes with the most hauntingly sorrowful expression that the hero had seen in his lifetime. Those eyes held a pain so deep that Sonic could hardly understand it. Compared to the hurt in Dawn's face, all the hardships in his life seemed like such trifles, mere annoyances.

Any yet within those purple orbs, there was a familiar glimmer. A sparkle of inner strength and determination that eerily reminded Sonic of the Shadow he once knew.

"I've made my decision. I'll come with you," Dawn said to Julie, Sonic's question unanswered. She nodded, a solemn look on her face. Taking Dawn's hand, she led him towards the stairway that led up and out of Hell on Earth.

Their way was blocked by Regime soldiers, scowling and shooting.

"I'm second in command. Maybe I can get them to stop shooting," Dawn suggested. Before Sonic or Julie could object, he dashed forward to stand in front of the soldiers that barred their path.

"Spread the word that the Prince orders all troops to cease fire," he ordered in his most grown-up voice.

"Negative. Emergency Code 332 in place. Your command is revoked. Place return to your room immediately," the soldier barked.

"Get out of my way!" Dawn shouted, growing red in the face.

"Negative." Dawn yelled, attacking the guard as his anger unleashed. The soldier easily caught the fist Dawn sent his way, holding it harmlessly in his iron grip.

"You know, you're not nearly as powerful as your father..." the soldier sneered. Dawn's anger manifested itself as a searing yellow light in his fist. "What the-" Before he could even finish his thought, Dawn unleashed the madly crackling projectile on him, unknowingly using his very first Chaos Spear.

The soldier sported a hole through his chest as wide as a baseball. Dawn stood in shock and horror over the soldier's corpse, as the rest of the guards fled in terror. Sonic and Julie snatched him up the next moment, rushing to flee the concentration camp before more troops arrived.

* * * * *

The rebel army vacated the prison, thousands of prisoners in tow, just as the Regime's second wave of troops began arriving. They traded fire with the soldiers as they edged their way out, eventually falling into a full fledged retreat, their objectives fulfilled.

The Regime troops began rounding up anyone they found, escaped prisoner or otherwise, and threw them into the Valley of Death. But even after catching all possible stragglers, they counted their losses at least six thousand prisoners, and hundreds of civilians defected to the Rebellion.

They hadn't lost all their prisoners by a long shot though, and so Reverend Carter remained by his own will. To give hope to the hopeless. If the Regime opened the door and offered him his freedom he would turn it down.

The Regime had been dealt a blow from which they would not quickly recover. And it had been at great cost.

Jonathan had taken up his new mantle as the blood-thirsty avenger of all wrongs, merciless enemy of the Regime. Sonic and Julie had been saved, and now Dawn had joined the side of freedom.

But having known nothing but the cruelties of his father, how well would he function in a real society? Could he ever truly learn to live like a normal person? Would the rebels judge him for who he was, or who they thought him to be? Only time would tell.

For now, the rebels' strategy was working.


	12. Sleep

**Chapter 12: Sleep**

In the aftermath of the battle, the rebels had fled back to their main base, trekking through the thick forests to throw off any soldiers that might be tailing them. Soon, the masses of weary soldiers, expectant civilians, and freed prisoners were beaconed by the comforting sight of the rebel base.

At the front of this army was Stevie and Nathan, directly followed by Sonic, Julie, and Knuckles. Plodding along in a daze behind Sonic and Julie was Dawn, his face blank and his limbs heavy. He was barely able to keep pace, but the sight of their destination had given him a new strength.

When Knuckles had seen the young obsidian and scarlet hedgehog, he had questioned Sonic. With some difficulty, Sonic explained that their old friend was in fact, the King, and that Dawn was his son. After hearing this, the crimson echidna was silent.

Led inside the small city that served as the rebels' home, the returning victorious were met with a cheer. The newly recruited civilians and prisoners were all given a bath, a meal, and a place to sleep, even if it was merely a mat on the floor. Which was better than some of them could boast before.

Dawn undoubtedly would've been lost in all this hustle and bustle is Sonic hadn't grabbed onto his hand, smiling reassuringly at the weary hedgehog and following Stevie.

The ferret walked into a room that overlooked the common chamber, a huge room where hundreds of liberated Regime subjects were being kept until they could be found a proper place to stay.

Looking out over this mass of humanity and sapients of all sorts, Stevie sighed introspectively.

"In a way, this is a tragedy as much as a victory. How many of these children are orphans, how many women widows?" he frowned. Some questions have no easy answers, and so the world was silent in response to his inquiry.

"But what about you two? You seem to have picked up a straggler," Stevie remarked as he indicated Dawn. The physically and emotionally exhausted hedgehog had found a couch, curled up on it, and drifted into a peaceful slumber while they all had been otherwise occupied. He looked amazingly peaceful.

"This is Dawn. He's a sweet boy, with a tender heart," Julie said. "But he's been through a lot of suffering."

"Was he a prisoner?" Stevie asked solemnly.

"Yes and no. He is the King's son," Sonic remarked, as Stevie stepped closer to examine the sleeping hedgehog. He had only seen the King one time, but it was recent, and so he remembered it well. He hadn't noticed it before, but the boy looked strikingly like the cloaked figure he'd shot in the head.

"Poor boy. It's a good thing you took him," Stevie nodded.

"He came of his own will. He made a special connection with Julie," Sonic commented.

"His mother died when he was very young. I think he was trying to replace that maternal affection," Julie concluded.

"Hmm..." Stevie breathed. "Who will take care of him?"

"We will," The silvery wolf replied instantaneously.

"_We_? You two are a thing now?" the ferret said with a raised eyebrow.

"I would prefer phrasing it a little differently, but yes. Why do you look so smug?" Sonic countered.

"I didn't see this coming at all..." he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Think what you'd like. Do you have anything useful to tell us?" Julie smirked.

"Well, I was just thinking that it might not be a terrific idea to tell everyone his true parentage," Stevie mused.

"Why's that?" Julie said in indignation.

"Eh, I'm a tad worried about the welcome he'll get when his father's identity is revealed. I'll be damned if he's blamed for the King's sins," Stevie explained. Sonic nodded in agreement.

"When he's a little older, we'll give him the choice. For now, our first priority is to protect Dawn. He joined the Rebellion to escape a loveless environment," Sonic concluded. "If all he finds is more of the same, we'll lose him."

"He knows everything about the Rebellion now. The consequences if he returns to his father would be disastrous," Julie interjected.

Stevie was silent a moment, considering this information while looking at Dawn carefully. He seemed to decide something for himself, as if resolving some age old conflict within himself. Finally, after staring at the young prince for awhile, he turned towards Julie and Sonic.

"Before you leave, I've got a personal favor to ask of you," Stevie began.

"Yes, commander?" Sonic nodded.

"While you were down there, did you happen to meet anyone by the name of Carter Reynolds?"

"We met him alright," Sonic smiled.

"Did he get out?" Stevie said in excitement. Sonic closed his eyes and sighed, heartbroken at having to tell the ferret the truth. But it had to be done.

"Do you remember what Carter took with him when you raided the camp all those years ago?" Sonic asked. Stevie went back to see if he could, but the memory wouldn't come to him.

"No, why?"

"He took a Bible with him as 'insurance,' in case he died," Julie informed him.

"Trapped down there for years with nothing else to read, he became a de facto minister. He is now more or less the camp's chaplain," Sonic remarked.

"So he didn't escape?" Stevie said quietly.

"By his own choice. He said that your fight was up here, his was down there," Julie assured him. The rebel leader suddenly looked very old as he frowned, nodding but saying nothing.

Sonic thought back to something the reverend had said when he was telling his story. Stevie had lost several of his men in the first raid on the prison camp, but he had managed to rescue two prisoners.

"Stevie, when we met Carter, he mentioned that you saved some prisoners in your first raid on the Valley of Death. What ever happened to them?" Sonic wondered.

"Oh! Nathan, and a girl named Jessica! Rescued them both as babies. Nathan's parents were thrown in there because they broke the law that whites and blacks couldn't marry. They asked me to take him with him when I left, and I raised him as my own son. That's why I thought it fitting that he 'open the door.' He knows this, so the prison break was personal," Stevie remarked. "And you can take my word that a pissed Nathan is not a good thing."

"I assume..." Julie remarked.

"Jessica died a couple years ago though. Poor girl. She was on assignment in Station Square when the Watchers discovered her and turned her in," the ferret finished.

"That's too bad," Sonic said in dismay.

"Well, it happens. Nothing we can do about it," Stevie sighed. "You two haven't been around for awhile, so you've probably got lots to do. Make sure to drop by and let Miles know you're okay."

"Miles?" Sonic asked.

"I forgot, you knew him by his nickname. Tails," Stevie nodded.

"I will. You want me to move Dawn?" Sonic asked as he pointed to the sleeping hedgehog.

"Don't be ridiculous. Let him sleep, he's earned it. I'll watch him for awhile so you two can get some time alone," he said slyly.

"Thanks," Julie laughed, as they left to take care of business as usual. Not much had changed since they'd been gone.

Sonic and Julie visited all the people who they'd met down in the camp, including Jonathan, although they found his change of demeanor quite disturbing. Sonic rationalized that minds so young should not have to endure such torment. He hardly came out of the Valley alive and sane.

They stopped by the Prower residence to do as Stevie had instructed them, but found that the family of foxes was not home. Sonic left a note, and they departed.

* * * * *

Shadow awoke to a pounding headache. He tried to sit up, but his head spun with even this motion, causing him to swear and lay back down. He thought back to the events before he blacked out, trying to remember how he got here.

He had been shot in the head by the diminutive ferret three times at point blank range. Any lesser being would have been stone dead the moment the first shell impacted their skull. But he was the King. The Ultimate Lifeform.

Granted this may have gone to his head over time, but that didn't mean that he didn't have a reason to be arrogant. He was practically invincible. Looking around, he was surprised to find himself laying in a bed that was not his, in an empty concrete room.

Empty, that is, except for a bedstand that sat directly on his right. On it was a large red button. Assuming that the button was meant to summon a servant, he pushed it. A couple minutes passed, and he began to grow impatient. Just as he was about to push it again, the door opened.

In walked General Thran, several guards behind him.

"Sire, you've awoken. Good. There is much you need to know," he said evenly, as if the losses the Regime had been dealt were minor.

"What happened... in the capital?" he murmured as he rubbed his head.

"The Rebellion made a tactical strike in which they stole several of our tanks. Measures have already been taken to prevent this from happening again. The rebels raided the palace and stole over six million dollars in your belongings, and broke into Camp Alpha to make a prison break," the general reported.

"How many prisoners?" Shadow seethed.

"Our estimates are currently at six thousand. Your personal prisoner by the name of Sonic is among those who escaped," Thran frowned.

"Barrett will pay for this... for twenty years he's run that camp, and I've given him free reign. Now his time has come," the King growled.

"The local population of Station Square attempted to defect to the rebels. In order to put down this insurrection, I ordered a quarter of the city to be killed. Three thousand troops were killed in the rebel attack, a minor loss. But I have even more grave news your grace." Thran said quietly.

"What is that?"

"We don't know for sure, but we haven't been able to find the Prince. We think he may have been taken hostage by the rebels. If this is true, they'll make their demands any day."

"Dawn... they took my son from me?" Shadow sat in enraged silence, brooding over what he was to do next. His fists clenched tightly, and his eyes widened madly.

A piece of the King's sanity shattered.

"General... I think this attack and the one on Roujin has made one thing abundantly clear. The capital is not, and never will be secure," Shadow sneered. Thran nodded and stood at attention, awaiting his orders.

"You remember that fortress I ordered you to build? Spare no expense. I am making it my new palace. I want it to be so powerful that no force in the world could capture it. Money is not an object," Shadow snarled.

Thran nodded, rendered a pompous salute, and left to fulfill his orders.

Shadow sat up in his bed and grinned. When the Rebellion made their demands, he'd come down on them like a tiger on a mouse.

But what he didn't know is that Dawn wasn't the Rebellion's hostage.

* * * * *

Stevie sat watching Dawn sleep, a slight smile on his face. The other rebels had all gone about their business and left him alone with the boy, and his friendly and fatherly nature had taken over.

The small black and red hedgehog stirred, yawning and slowly sitting up. He rubbed his eyes, blinked, saw Stevie, blinked again, and stared wide-eyed.

"Who are you?" he said quietly.

"My name is Stephen. But I would prefer you call me Stevie," the rebel leader responded with a chuckle. Dawn looked him over and raised one eyebrow.

"What are you, a weasel or something?" Dawn smirked.

"No, I'm a ferret. I'm also the leader of the Rebellion," Stevie remarked, sitting down next to the Prince.

"You are?" Dawn was silent for a bit. "You're not like my father said... Are you sure there's not some other leader, someone who gives you orders?"

"There's only me and my second in command, Nathan. I'm top dog around here," Stevie said pointedly. "You may begin to find more and more things that aren't how your father said."

Dawn was silent, wondering whether it was possible that his father had lied to him. Granted, Shadow was cruel, but Dawn couldn't think of an instance where he knew his father had lied. When the boy said nothing, Stevie spoke again.

"Well, you can stay with us as long as you like, and leave whenever you like. Sonic and Julie are going to take care of you," the elder ferret explained. "If you ever need anything, you just talk to me, and I'll fetch it for you faster than a wallaby can eat a hot dog."

Dawn seemed not to comprehend this Australian metaphor, but smiled nonetheless.

"Thank you." Stevie nodded, phoned up Sonic and asked him to come pick Dawn up. A few minutes later, the blue blur arrrived.

"Hey there buddy. You ready to go?" the azure rebel asked. Dawn looked at Stevie, who smiled in return, a gesture that meant it was okay to leave him.

"Yeah. What are we going to do?" Dawn asked, fearful that he would once again be left alone.

"I don't know. You want to go to the park?" Sonic asked as they turned to leave. As they walked out the door, Stevie shed a single tear.

"What's the park?" Dawn asked in curiosity. Sonic turned to him in disbelief.

"You're about to find out!" Sonic remarked, as he motioned for Dawn to follow, and sped through the base.

Dawn had always been scolded for running, told it was unbecoming of a prince. He found it refreshing to get some energy out of his system. If only he knew what awaited him at the park. They came outside, and Sonic increased speed, with Dawn keeping pace behind him.

They came to the park the rebels had build, which Sonic presented ceremoniously, but Dawn only stared in confusion.

"What do I do here?" Sonic nearly sweat-dropped.

"You play. Run around, hang off things, rough house," Sonic exclaimed. "Watch the other kids and do what they do."

Dawn observed the activity in the park, watching the other children intently. After several minutes of looking, the black hedgehog got up, ran over, and began imitating the playing children.

Gradually, the fun he was having took over, and he stopped imitating as much, and simply played. Several of the other children welcomed him to their group, a strange and delightful feeling. Most of us know it as acceptance. As Sonic sat there watching Dawn, he was reminded of his old friend by the young hedgehog's mannerisms.

His laugh, his smile, and the way he moved were all nearly identical to Shaodw's, and the coloring completed the resemblence. There was something else familiar that Sonic couldn't put his finger on, something that wasn't Shadow. Sonic didn't know it, but he was seeing the influence of Rouge's genes, which allowed for a hint of her to shine through here and there, especially in the boy's eyes.

He felt as if he knew Dawn since the boy was born. He had already determined that he would not try to raise Dawn to be like him. The last thing Sonic wanted was for Dawn to end up in a situation like his.

He wanted to raise him to be like Shadow would've been, before he was the King. It wouldn't be easy. But he would have Julie to help him. As Sonic considered Dawn's future, a thought occurred to him, and he smiled.

He had the son he'd always wanted.

* * * * *

Sonic and Dawn returned to the hedgehog's room after a long day of horseplay and shenanigans. The young boy was grinning from ear to ear, and Sonic set him up a place to sleep.

"There's not much room here, but I guess we're roomies," Sonic chuckled. Dawn simply nodded, not understanding the humor. He sat down in his bed, and removed his shoes, setting them to the side.

"I don't like big rooms. This is perfect," he said quietly. Sonic smiled and sat in his bed, grabbing a book from the stack on his night-stand.

"Alright Dawn, you should try to get some sleep," Sonic whispered. "It's been a long day."

The young hedgehog rolled over, snuggling into his blankets with a warm smile on his face.

"Good night," with these as his final words, the young prince drifted asleep, preparing to wake up to the first day of the rest of his life.

Meanwhile, the dark King plotted liberty's downfall...


	13. The Mark of Sacrifice

_Author's Notes: _Something in here is a little treat I included just for you Nevermore Raven. See if you can spot it.

**Chapter 13: The Mark of Sacrifice**

Sonic and Dawn woke up the next morning, ate breakfast, and prepared to start their day. The two had to drop by the library to drop off one of Sonic's books that was due, and then they met up with Julie in the park. It was ironic, both of them were thinking at the same time how lovely she looked in clothes other than the death camp uniforms, and the thought didn't even occur to either of them that they shared a fascination with her.

"Hey Jules, got any plans today?" Sonic asked. The ivory wolf shrugged, as aimless as he was now that they were no longer detained. It would take awhile just to adjust to normal life.

"Dawn been giving you any trouble?" she smirked as she tousled the young hedgehog's quills.

"Course not. He's been more mature than me. Granted that's not hard, but it's something," the azure hero laughed in reply. Julie turned towards the ebony hedgehog, who had remained silent the whole time.

"You want to spend the day with me? Sonic needs some time to himself," she said. Before Dawn could answer, Sonic objected.

"I do not!" he defended. Dawn seemed a bit confused by this, and watched quietly, waiting to see how things would play out.

"You're going to take him to Miles'?" she said in surprise.

"I'd forgotten about that," he said quietly. "Hey buddy, I've got something real important I gotta do. Why don't you hang out with Julie, and I'll come get you when I'm done."

"Okay," Dawn said passively, staring at Sonic as he left.

"Alright Dawn, we're gonna have a blast," Julie exclaimed, earning nothing but a blank stare. Ignoring his unexcited nature, she whisked him away.

* * * * *

Sonic knocked on the door of the Prower residence while standing on the porch and awaiting an answer amidst a chilling wind. After he had been there for several moments, he began to turn to leave, but as he did, the door swung open. He'd heard no voice, and there was no -one standing in the open doorway, but nonetheless, there it was, open for him to enter. The cerulean rebel walked through the threshold and shut the door behind him.

Tails was in his chair, sitting at the desk and tinkering on something as usual.

"Ah, Sonic, you're back. I was beginning to get worried," Tails exclaimed, dropping his in-progress invention.

"Well, I'm safe now, and I figured I'd drop by and say hi," he replied. Tails nodded, and swiveled his wheelchair so he could face Sonic.

"Say... have you met my family yet?" he asked.

"I think I met your boy... what's his name?" Sonic mentally slapped himself for not asking when he first met up with the golden vulpine.

"Timothy. He's the youngest at the moment. And his older sister is Megan," Tails explained. "I'll fetch them." The inventor retrieved a cellular phone from a pouch hanging off his wheelchair, dialed into it, and held it to his ear.

"Hey kids, there's somebody here I want you to meet. Go get your mom, and come down here," he spoke into it. Sonic was about to ask how he could talk to both of them at once, but remembering that his friend was a genius inventor, he decided to just forget about it.

A trio of foxes walked into the room, each of them smiling slightly. The smallest was the one he'd first encountered, and followed to his old friend. The signature dual tails swayed slowly behind him. Definitely his father's son. Only slightly older was his sister Megan, who was just beginning to bloom into a beautiful young lady, and was missing the famous second tail.

Sonic was most shocked when he saw his friend's wife. The reason was quite simple, and is best stated simply. She was obviously, very, and undeniably pregnant.

"Got another one on the way?" he asked in genuine surprise as he turned to his friend with a raised eyebrow.

"Just because I lost my legs doesn't mean the romance dies Sonic," the fox smirked. "Say hello children, this is an old friend of mine."

"Well I've already met short stuff, but I haven't had the the pleasure of being introduced to the little lady," he grinned.

"I'm not short!" Timothy objected. His mother laughed.

"You're so silly Timmy," Tails' wife smiled.

"What about you Mrs. Prower? What's your name?" Sonic said curtly.

"Karen. And you're Sonic, right?" she reaffirmed, making sure she would remember correctly.

"Yeah. Y'know what though, it's been wonderful to meet you all, but could you excuse me and dad for a bit?" Sonic asked. "We've got something important to discuss."

"Sure," Megan chirped. Timothy soon followed suit, and both of them bounced away, practically exuding energy. Karen followed after them, carefully bearing the life in her womb. Once they were alone, Tails spoke.

"So, what's so important?" he inquired. Sonic was silent a moment, as if considering the wording of his question.

"There's no easy way to say this, so I'm just going to do the best I can and hope you understand," he began. Tails nodded for him to continue.

"Ever since I met up with you again I've been thinking about something, and I've been tormented by it continuously. I've just got to have some answers."

"You can ask me anything Sonic," the fox assured him.

"Well, you obviously have inventor capabilities that would've made Dr. Eggman weep with envy. And it's been years since your accident... So why haven't you built yourself a new set of legs?" he said quickly, as if he was anxious to get the question out into the air. Tails looked as if he knew Sonic were going to ask that, and heaved a long sigh.

"Do you want the long answer or the short answer?" he smiled, a response Sonic considered strange from the sensitive nature of the question.

"Give me the short one first, and I'll see if I get it," the sapphire hedgehog remarked.

"Other men give their lives in battle. I gave my legs. What right do I have to 'get a refund' on the sacrifice I made, when those thousands of brave men will never see their families again," Tails explained. Sonic looked at him with a slightly confused expression, as he still wasn't sure this justification was acceptable.

"Don't you miss being able to walk?"

"Every day I do. But my legs didn't make me who I am, and nobody, not my wife, not my kids, not you, loves me any less since I lost them. If they don't, why should _I _love myself any less now that I don't have them."

Sonic frowned in comprehension, as he stared at his friend from long ago, when the world was a different place.

"It doesn't seem right. You deserve to walk," Sonic insisted.

"And I will. The day that the Regime falls," Tails smirked. Sonic smacked his forehead.

"You sound like Carter..." he muttered under his breath. There was a lengthy pause, with Sonic considering this explanation inwardly. "Alright. I'll respect that. I just wanted to know."

The legless fox shrugged, as a smile came to his face.

"Soccer is a whole lot harder though," he joked. Sonic laughed, imagining Tails pushing the ball around with his wheelchair.

"I suppose so."

* * * * *

Julie had determined to show Dawn normal life, and to treat him to everything the Rebellion had to offer. She took him first to get cookies, and then while he was still exclaiming that the desert was the most ingenious invention the world had ever known, she had introduced him to music.

At first, Dawn seemed somewhat confused by the whole ordeal, and Julie had to explain several times that music was not about rules, but about expression. After a couple minutes of listening carefully, Dawn seemed to get a better understanding of it, and danced a bit, although no matter what she did, Julie could not convince him to sing.

After Julie became frustrated with that activity, she took him to explore, figuring that he would love to roam wide open spaces after being cooped up in the palace his whole life. She couldn't have been more right. No sooner was Dawn given permission to race freely around the open fields than he took off, leaving Julie in the dust with a ferocious speed that would've rivaled that of his father in the old days.

Julie smiled as she watched him, simultaneously proud and slightly jealous that she couldn't reach such speeds, but also happy that Dawn had found something to put his heart into. And he certainly did. He ran as if his very life depended on it, returning to her only once he was utterly exhausted, and the entire length of the field had been explored.

He took a moment to catch his breath, his eyes wild with excitement at having been allowed to run at his maximum capability. The both of them stood there in amazement for a moment at the young hedgehog's natural talent in running, and smiled.

The mood was disrupted slightly when they heard a rustle behind them, causing them to turn around the face the source of the noise. Standing among the tall blades of grass was Stevie, watching silently.

They both eyes him quizzically, and once he realized he'd been seen, he approached them.

"Don't mind me. I was just enjoying the show," he remarked. Dawn laughed slightly, but Julie seemed slightly confused by the ferret's presence.

"Commander, do you need something?" Julie said slowly, knowing that the leader of the rebellion did not have time to simply stand around idly.

"Well, I did want to speak to Dawn, but when I saw him out here I decided to observe a little while," he explained. "If you're done, then may I have a word with you?"

Dawn nodded, and followed the elder ferret. Leading him off, he trailed away to a distant hill, until Julie became a distant shape the bled into obscurity amidst the colors of the field. The rebel leader sat down on the hilltop with a sigh, his action soon mimicked by the quiet young prince.

His father had trained him to not speak until spoken to, and so Dawn simply waited for Stevie to address him, while the ferret took his time to simply lose himself in the beauty of his surroundings.

The green of the hilltops bled into the vibrant blue sky, which shone off the sands of a distant desert. In one direction, ivory peaks jutted up into the air, and in another, the smog of the Regime loomed. The simplicity of nature was what Stevie viewed as the most beautiful.

Reluctantly drawing himself away from his musings, he finally spoke to Dawn.

"I realize it must be hard for you. Being away from your home." Although the diminutive hedgehog nodded, inwardly, he frowned at the memory of the palace. "This all must seem strange and frightening to you."

"I'm doing fine thank you," Dawn replied, his expression now changed to one of neutrality.

"I realize that. And I'm glad. However, there is one thing you should know," he said wearily, as if the weight of all his years were returning to him. "The Rebellion is designed to fight the Regime. And as you know, the Regime is ruled by your father."

Dawn was quiet at this, ashamed of the very truth itself.

"I understand that you must feel for your father, but you in turn must try to understand. You must know that I will not rest until he is stopped, and that if you stay here, there will come a day when you must chose between us and him."

Dawn's face was cast to the ground.  
"That day is not today. But when it does arrive, I hope you'll have all the wisdom you need to make the right choice..." he trailed off, his eyes staring off into the distance, towards the smoke of the Regime's factories, their pupils shimmering with hatred.

Once again, Dawn could think of nothing to say to this.

"I must ask you. Is there anything you could tell us that would help us fight the Regime?" Stevie now turned to face Dawn, the earlier ice gone from his expression.

"My father never told me much..." he replied slowly, as if it were painful to remember anything at all.

"You must try. Is there anything important at all?"

"Well... I do remember one thing that might help," he frowned, as he paused for a moment to work out the details in his head. "My father once told me that he would have his men construct me a new palace, and make it even bigger and stronger than his, so that when I was king, I could rule unquestioned from its throne."

Stevie looked at Dawn in a strange mix of satisfaction and horror, his bottom lip quivering.

"And do you know where this will be constructed?"

"No... I'm sorry..." he grimaced, looking as if he'd been punched in the stomach.

"You've done nothing wrong. Go back to Julie then," he said with a forced smile, as the young hedgehog plodded away. "I'll find that damn palace one way or another..."

When Dawn returned to Julie, the wolf's expression was quizzical, but she knew that if the leader had intended for her to know about their discussion, he would've had it in front of her. He was a fairly straightforward ferret.

She smiled at him, but Dawn's expression remained grave. Without questioning him as the cause of his sudden sadness, she led him away to try to find an activity to take the young hedgehog's mind off his former circumstances.

"Hey Dawn, do you want to go get something to eat?" Julie offered. Dawn blinked up at her with his amethyst orbs, still slightly effected by his previous conversation.

"Like what?" he said quietly.

"I don't know. You ever had Ice Cream before?" Dawn paused, a puzzled look coming onto his face. He knew what cream was, and he knew what ice was, but putting the two together seemed rather silly and illogical to him. He also wasn't sure why Julie looked like she was talking about some god to be worshiped when she spoke of it, but he curious enough to want to find out.

"What is it?" he asked quizzically, as Julie's eyes widened once again. Knowing that Ice Cream really couldn't be explained, she motioned for him to follow, and led him to their next stop, the favorite parlor of the town of rebels.

* * * * *

A little bell dinged as the rather strange pair walked through the door of the Ice Cream parlor. An unfamiliar scent drifted to Dawn's nostrils, and in an instant, he knew he would like this place. At the counter was an aged man with thick spectacles, who was dishing up spherical mounds of a substance Dawn didn't recognize, but presumed to be this mythical "Ice Cream."

"What'll it be Jules?" the man smiled at her.

Julie indicated Dawn. "Georgie, Dawn here has never had an Ice Cream in his life. Can you hook him up with something?" Dawn blushed at this, wondering if he had violated some social norm.  
Of course, he had, but not of his own fault. The moment the words 'never had an Ice Cream' left Julie's lips, the grizzled man's eyes seemed to double in size, as he stared at the young hedgehog. Dawn wondered if he'd done something wrong.

"My boy, this one's on the house. I know just the thing," he mused, as he began to work. George's shop wasn't your typical Ice Cream store. In addition to the classic flavors and toppings, George did some rather eccentric things. He offered candy bars mixed into the dessert, as well as every variety of fruit, nut, and baking product imaginable.

"Alright kid, listen up. You'll want to remember this as your first Ice Cream for the rest of your life," George said as he cleared his throat and began scooping. "The flavor is Cookie Dough. But that's far too simple. I'm also gonna throw in... strawberries, fudge, and brownies. You tell me what you think."

Dawn was presented with a multicolored conglomeration of sweetness that certainly smelled good. He looked up at Julie, who presented him with a spoon.

Cautiously, the young mirror image of the ultimate lifeform took a small bite, as if afraid that it was poisoned. The moment his lips closed, his eyes widened, as the intensity of the combination hit him.

Without waiting for any further affirmation from either George or Julie, Dawn began to voraciously attack the Ice Cream creation, deciding on the spot that he'd never had anything better tasting in his life.

It didn't take him long to polish it off, despite the fact that George had been rather generous in his serving. From the satisfied and slightly goofy grin on Dawn's face, one would think that happiness should be listed as a side-effect of the dessert.

"Well I don't think we need to ask him what he thought. We have a convert, Jules."

Dawn looked up at George with a dreamy look in his eyes. "That was the most delicious thing I've ever had. Thank you sir."

"And so polite too. You're very welcome. Anything for you?" he asked Julie. She politely said no, and left with Dawn. After the pair departed, a nostalgic smile came over the old man's face as he wiped off his glasses, and remembered the first time he'd had Ice Cream.

* * * * *

Julie brought Dawn to the park to drop him off with Sonic, as they'd previously agreed. When they arrived, the cerulean rebel was not present, and so Julie simply told Dawn to go and play, and sat down to wait for him. Several minutes passed, and finally he strode up, a thoughtful frown on his face.

"What's up Sonic?" she asked at his strange expression.

"Oh, nothing. How did Dawn do?"

"Need you even ask? I took him to George's. Of course, this means he'll be pestering you about buying him Ice Cream from now on."

"I can take it," Sonic smirked, as he watched the young hedgehog play. Sonic knew that Dawn still hadn't quite come out of his box, but he also knew it would take time, that every day needed to be purposeful.

His stare drifted off into the distance, as his thoughts wandered.

"What do you think Shadow will do?"

"Shadow?" Julie asked quizzically. Sonic closed his eyes momentarily with grief.

"The King. What do you think he'll do when he finds out Dawn came with us?" he worried.

"I don't know. But I think it's best if we don't let him find out."

"He will eventually," Sonic stated with a grim finality. Julie looked at him in confusion, as he continued to stare off into the distance, as if the answers to all life's problems were revealed on the horizon.

"Let's just worry about Dawn for now. He's sacrificed enough." Sonic nodded, and turned towards her.

"I already lost two friends to the Regime. I won't let that last fragment of the Shadow I knew die," Sonic said as he thought back to how Amy had died, and Shadow had become the king.

In Sonic's mind, in some way, Shadow had died. Julie found it difficult to understand his logic, but nodded in submission.

Sonic gave her a light kiss on the cheek before turning to retrieve Dawn, and go on with his business. He had one more matter to resolve. And he wanted Dawn to accompany him this time.

* * * * *

Sonic's fist struck the metal door, booming noisily despite the fact that he hadn't knocked all that hard. A voice within muttered something inaudible, as footsteps sounded. The door first opened a crack, and then an inch, revealing an inquisitive yet grouchy face bearing eyes the same color as Dawn's.

Knuckles began to ask Sonic why he was there, when he looked down and saw Dawn, his mouth hanging open slightly. Saying nothing, he opened the door to allow them both to come in. His eyes remained wide as he latched the door shut behind them, turning to stare at Dawn in bewilderment.

The young hedgehog was a bit scared by this strange reaction, and buried his head in Sonic, whimpering slightly. Knuckles finally collected himself enough to form an intelligible sentence, but his expression remained one of surprise nonetheless.

"Who is that?" was the best he could come up with, pointing an accusatory finger at Dawn. Sonic was slightly surprised by Knuckles reaction, but answered nonetheless.

"This is Dawn, Shadow's son. Knuckles, there's something important you need to know," Sonic began, his lips pursed in thought. "Shadow is the king."

Knuckles stared at Sonic blankly, his expression not changing in the slightest. "I already knew that. After all, do you think anyone else would be able to take my emerald from me?"

Now it was Sonic's turn to stare blankly.

"I just didn't know that _his majesty _had spawned." Sonic stared at Knuckles in disapproval.

"I would ask you why you didn't tell me, but frankly, I find your general lack of concern for others disturbing. Are you in this for nothing but to keep the Master Emerald from the Regime?" Sonic questioned, as he softly stoked Dawns head to try to calm him down.

"I didn't think you could handle the truth. As for this one, I say you learn to tell your enemies from your friends."

Sonic raged at this remark, his eyes shooting daggers at Knuckles.

"You have no right to condemn him just because of who his father is! He is a person just like you or me!" he defended.

"Bah. Such things are trivial. You're not doing this for him, you're trying to get Shadow back," Knuckles retaliated. "This boy is not Shadow. You can't just turn back time and pretend that he didn't betray us."

"I didn't intend to. Instead, I decided to do what I neglected to for so long. Take action," Sonic replied levelly, suddenly realizing that arguing with the stubborn echidna would get him nowhere. "I've sat around doing nothing for fear of failure for too long. I'm going to bet everything on Dawn and have faith that I'll be rewarded."

Sonic stood to leave, with Dawn's hand tightly gripping his. As he stormed away, Knuckles looked after him, a stoic frown on his face.

"Juvenile prick and his ideals."

Knuckles would never know his error in judgement, that he had been in the presence of the one who would decide the very fate of the Rebellion, and he'd not even given being kind of him a second thought.


	14. Sunset and Sunrise

**Chapter 14: Sunset and Sunrise**

After their encounter with the guardian of the Master Emerald, Dawn was even more quiet than usual, saddened by the echidna's condemnation of his very existence. Although not quite crying outright, droplets of water were beginning to form in his amethyst irises, and Sonic was starting to get worried.  
He tried to find something to take Dawn's mind off their recent encounter, but nothing seemed to work, and when he attempted to hold a conversation with the young hedgehog, he only replied with grunts and a nod, or a shake of his head.

_'Damn you Knuckles. You've probably undone days of reassurance with your thirty second outburst...' _the cerulean hero seethed inwardly, knowing that it took a thousand positive memories to drown out a single negative one.

Nonetheless, Sonic had determined to try, for Dawn's sake, knowing that the longer the boy dwelled on it, the more painful it would become. Sonic looked over at the obsidian youngster, who sat beside him on a park bench, motionless, his eyes fixated on a dead insect, as if frozen in horror at the death of the insignificant lifeform.

Just as the hero was about to offer some encouragement, Dawn spoke quickly and loudly, surprising him.

"Why does that jerk hate me? I haven't done anything to him!" he said angrily, his violet eyes still continuing their eerie stare.

"Dawn... there are people out there who judge others based off their background rather than their character," Sonic explained slowly, his gaze focused on the broken soul seated next to him.

"I don't know what that means..." the young hedgehog replied more quietly, almost as if he were upset with himself for not understanding something.

The azure rebel now looked up at the sky, as if the words he was looking for were scrawled out on a cloud. He found nothing within the heavens, its mockingly empty blue expanse simply staring back at him.

"There are some people who would hate Nathan, just because his skin is black."

Dawn seemed completely shocked by this, but still did not come out of his emotional state.

"But that's completely ridiculous!" he insisted.

A pained looked came into the hero's emerald eyes, as if he had thought the same thing for a long time. "It's still the truth. Regardless of the fact that Nathan is a leader of men, a strong and capable warrior, and probably smarter than you or me, they would see him as inferior to themselves."

"I can't believe that. Color doesn't affect what kind of person you are," Dawn spat back, as if the very mention of such prejudice tasted sour on his lips.

"I agree. But some people don't judge others based on things like color, or height, or gender," he trailed off, alluding to their recent conversation with the guardian. "Some people, like Knuckles, judge others based on their parentage and heritage."

"Why?" he whimpered.

"Well, part of it is Knuckles' nature. He's the last of his kind, a seclusive and shamanistic race where sons took up their father's mantles and bore their name with pride and strength. In his culture, the father's reputation gets passed down to the son."

Dawn's eyes widened momentarily, and then narrowed the next second, as he realized what Sonic was saying. "He hates me because my father is the King."

"He doesn't even know you. It's not personal," Sonic reminded him. "He expects you to prove that you're not like your father before you can earn his trust."

Dawn sat quietly, and returned his stare to the corpse of the insect. He gazed at it a long time, before finally, he stood to his feet.

"I will prove myself to all of them," he declared. Sonic quirked one eyebrow at him, as if slightly surprised by his reaction.

"You have nothing to prove. Knuckles will see his mistake in time," Sonic assured him, relieved that he had finally succeeded in bringing the young hedgehog out of his grim mood, despite the fact that he hadn't done much other than listen, and explain.

"In the mean time... you wanna see my collection?" the blue hero said absently. Dawn had no idea what he was referring to, and so cocked his head a little to the left, a gesture that sent a sense of deja-vu flooding wildly through Sonic.

"Could you please explain?"

"It's some stuff I've hoarded from before the Regime took over. I thought you might be interested in looking at it," Sonic shrugged.

"Sure." With that, the two of them raced off, the former darkness that had clouded Dawn's world lifted. For now.

* * * * *

Sonic and Dawn arrived back at the blue hedgehog's room, the young boy expectantly waiting what was about to be revealed. Sonic thought silently that perhaps out of all the places on the rebel base, he had spent the least amount of time here, and that in addition, he probably needed to tidy up a bit.

Dawn's mat was still rolled out on the floor, with a more or less empty bookshelf at its foot. Two books worthy of mention were on the shelves though, the first being the hero's copy of that worn book which had seen him through the many years under the Regime's reign: 1984.

While he had been shiftlessly trudging through life, he had hidden this book underneath a loose floorboard, knowing that it's discovery would amount to his death. But now, the seemingly ancient tome lay proudly displayed, it's prophetic vision of a dark future ringing hauntingly true.

Not far away from this first volume sat the unmarked book with a pitch black cover, the mysterious Black Book. Sonic had begun to read it before he was taken prisoner, but had been disgusted with its contents, and been unable to force himself to continue. However, the book had not been checked out in years, so the library was more than happy to let him keep it long term.

In fact, they practically insisted that he leave it in his possession. Now that he knew the book's author, he had mixed feelings about it. While part of him was horrified that he'd discover his friend's dark descent to a monstrous tyrant, the other was hoping that within those crimson pages, there might be some kind of remorse, a lingering hope for a King who had long abandoned his noble intentions.

Of course, he had promised Dawn, and would think about the book later. Sonic opened the closet with a slight smile, retrieving a cardboard box that held his assortment of items. Dawn's curious and intelligent eyes scanned over each and every keepsake as he removed it from the box and laid them out on the bed in no particular order.

Once he was completely done, and the box lay empty, he held the nearest relic in his hands, looking over it in confusion.

"I still can't remember..." he mused quietly. Dawn's eyes widened as he stared at the wooden object cradled in Sonic's hands.

"You don't know what that is?" the young boy declared in surprise, for once knowing more about normal life than his guardian. The cerulean rebel shook his head, and raised one eyebrow slightly.

"I've never used one before, but I think this is called a bat," he took the sporting gear from Sonic, examining it more closely. A memory flashed before Sonic's eyes of more than twenty years ago, when he'd played baseball with some of his friends.

He'd had an advantage because of his great speed, a single hit and he could make it all the way to Home Base before the ball started its downward curve. Eventually, he was asked to be the umpire instead.

"Oh my... I just remembered!" Sonic remarked, as he stared at the baseball bat in appreciation. "I'll have to take you out some time for a game."

Dawn nodded absently, as if he wasn't sure that this was either impressive in the least, or important in the slightest. The young hedgehog picked up another of the precious items, carefully holding it in both hands.

"Sonic, what is this?" he said quietly, looking down at the faded cloth that lay in his arms. The crimson stripes had nearly died completely, and the white had stained with time, almost a yellowish hue.

"I remember... I know that it was a flag, once..." Sonic said, as he strained to remember his country's name.

"Why is it important?" the Regime didn't use flags, because according to them, they ruled the world uncontested. There was no need for flags to claim territory when they owned it all. Dawn couldn't understand the ideal behind a flag.

"It symbolizes something... it represents liberty, and... justice," Sonic explained, his own memories of a time when the flag was used dim. "For all... wait, that's it."

"What?"

"America. That used to be what it was called. The flag represented it."

Dawn still couldn't understand the flag's sacred significance, and gave a polite 'ah', but still looked as if thought that such a thing couldn't be all that important.

Sonic was slightly disappointed by this reaction, but rationalized that Dawn couldn't appreciate something he'd never known. But then again... Julie did say he'd found an appreciation for Ice Cream. I occurred to Sonic that perhaps if he showed Dawn some things with more instant gratification, that he'd be able to understand their significance.

The blue hedgehog pondered what to show to his younger companion, as Dawn returned his gaze quizzically. He glanced out the window, and noticed that the sky was shaded a deep tone of purple. The golden orb that we humans in our immense arrogance and supposed wisdom thought to call "The Sun," was beginning to dip into the great black expanse below the skyline. The burning ball of nuclear fire was the root of all life on the planet; was once worshiped as a god, and the most meaningful and impressive name we could produce for it was the Sun.

An idea came into the hero's mind of something that Dawn would surely appreciate knowing that he had spent almost his whole life in the confines of the Royal Palace.

"Y'know what, I've got something way better to show you. Follow me," he ordered, as he began to walk outside with swift, long strides. Dawn practically had to run to keep up, as Sonic led him away to an emerald hilltop just outside of the massive rebel base.

Dawn took a moment to immerse himself in the beauty of the sunset colors, the sun's final rays casting a wild assortment of hues over the open plain. The sky itself was a deep violet, a shade darker than the prince's own eyes, and the light of the evening sun reflected off his pupils with an almost eerie luminosity. The night colors themselves were awe inspiring, the crimson stains mixing with vivid pinks and yellows, almost making the horizon look as if it were on fire.

The pair sat down among the grass, both amazed beyond words, and content to simply enjoy the show that nature was putting on for them. As the sun crept slowly downward, the incredible colors faded, until the heavens grew dark and finally, the golden orb of light disappeared entirely.

"Dawn, look," Sonic said quietly, as he pointed at the obsidian sky stretched out above them. Like diamonds cast among an empty void, hundreds of stars had already appeared, peeping out amidst the darkness. Even as the silent pair gazed at these, more and more gently appeared, the phenomenon appearing so simple from such a great distance. To even consider the fact that these seemingly miniscule lights were in fact, many times larger than the earth, some incomparably larger than the Sun itself, and that each and every one was sending out its light for millions of light-years, caused Sonic to feel extremely small, as if he were merely an unimportant part of a massive universe.

That some of the older stars were so far away from them, that by the time their light reached the earth, the star was already dead, shattered into dust, and that it would take billions of years after they were gone for their light to die blew his mind. Dawn seemed equally amazed by their tranquil, steady flickering, and gazed up in even greater wonder, never having seen the beautiful flames before.

"What are they?"

Sonic paused, not even quite sure himself exactly what stars were made of, and knowing that Dawn would find an exact explanation confusing. "They're giant orbs of fire, burning trillions of miles away from us. Each and every one is its own sun."

"Whoa. Are there other worlds, surrounding them?"

"Indeed there are. But no-one has ever been to them. They're too far away. We can see them, but never touch them, almost as if they're a mirage, taunting us."

Sonic was obviously caught up once in the romanticism of Space Travel. The Regime of course, launched no space programs beyond the moon, although they had re-established control over Space Colony Ark.

"I wonder what they're like... the other worlds..." Dawn mused, his eyes practically glowing with the thought of exploration. Sonic smiled slightly at his enthusiasm.

"Maybe you'll be the first one to go there. You never know." Dawn nodded excitedly, his amethyst eyes gazing up at the skies in desire and wonder.

"Are these... stars." Dawn said this as if the word were sacred, an entity to be respected, admired, and feared all at the same time.

Sonic thought about how simple this name was as well, but how well it captured the simple beauty of such a complicated wonder.

"Indeed they are." With a tinge of nostalgia, the blue rebel remembered the first time he'd seen the wondrous orbs of light since he had been freed from the Regime's control.

Dawn sighed deeply as he lay back against the grass hill and stared at the canvas sky rolled out above him. Losing himself within its dark depths, he slowly drifted into a deep slumber.

Sonic noticed his steady, peaceful breathing, and realized that he was asleep, picking the young hedgehog up, he carried him back inside. Setting him down in his makeshift bed, he couldn't help but frown.

_'I wish that I had more to offer him. If I can't convince him that there's a better world out there than the one he knows... I don't know what I'll do.' _Sonic thought with a grimace. _'I won't let that happen. I won't lose him like I did Shadow.'_

The blue blur's eyes came to rest upon the onyx tome that sat upon the bookshelf at Dawn's feet, it's nameless cover mocking him with promised answers. It tempted him, screaming at him to just look for a moment, taunting his inner monologue.

Giving in to his desire to uncover some hope for his friend, Sonic reluctantly retrieved the book, turned out all the lights except his bedside lamp, and pulled back the jet black cover, turning the yellowed pages lined in scarlet to where he'd set his bookmark.

-

_August 26, 2010_

_Perhaps I am losing my mind. To think that I could correct all the evils in the world, that all sorrows and hatreds could be extinguished would be labeled by most as madness. After all, it was what I promised. Don't I have the responsibility to stay true to that promise? It is all the fault of these greedy politicians. They don't know the circumstances that the common man must face, and they care nothing for his welfare. _

_That is why I must be the one. The masses cannot be trusted to act. So long as they have enough to survive, they will be convinced to sit by in lethargy as the Capitalists remain in tyranny over them. Those who hold the power themselves will never relinquish it by their own free will, and so it falls to one individual to decide the fate of the world. _

_It is ironic. I was designed to save mankind, and then twisted for the purpose of destroying it. Now, I shall shape its destiny. With the destruction of the world's corrupt leadership, I can right every wrong. Finally, there shall be a world worthy of her memory, one that would have spared the innocent life killed in that abominable tragedy. _

_August 27, 2010_

_It has begun. The reshaping of the world is at hand, and soon, both my vengeance and my forgiveness will be complete. I will strike with a swiftness that will take those who have gorged themselves with other's blood, and feasted upon the labors of the poor by complete surprise. _

_For all history, today will be known as the day upon which I killed the governments of twelve different nations, escaping blame for each incident, and allowing the people of those countries to revolt, and form for themselves new government. But this is not enough. If the problem at hand is ever to be rectified, then the entire world must stand united, under one flag._

_September 3, 2010_

_The corrupt officials have now all been taken care of, and already, the world is beginning to unite under one rule. I have come forward to accept the consequences of my crimes, but to my relief, most of the revolutions are heralding me as a hero, and one of their founders. Those who are not have pardoned me, which means that I will be able to witness the fruits of my own labor. September 9, 2010_

_A council has been called among those nations who are to form the new world order, to discuss what governmental systems to base the new nation upon. This league has received participation from Russia, China, Germany, the United Kingdom, France, Italy, Canada, Mexico, the United States, Egypt, Spain, and Brazil. Once these main nations are all united as one, I am convinced that the smaller countries will feel the pressure, and join the alliance. _

_The members of the council have already agreed not to trade outside of the nation that is to be formed, putting economic pressure on independent outsiders to join. I have been invited as a founder of the Great Revolution to oversee the council meetings and make suggestions to the commission. _

_I never dreamed things would go this smoothly, or that my vision could ever be so close to realization. _

_September 24, 2010_

_Dozens more countries have joined. The question has been brought up of what sort of government to use. Obviously, a government that is too weak would be unable to maintain control over such a large area of land, so the council is having to carefully consider the possibilities before making a decision. _

_It is my opinion that the most effective form to be employed would work as follows: the Union is divided up into territories, which act much like States did in the United States government. Each has some form of self government. However, as is the case in the US government, the laws passed by the Territorial Congress' cannot contradict the Union Constitution. _

_In order to force the Senators to listen to the people, elections will be held every two years. A Senator could hold office an infinite number of consecutive terms, but if he did anything the people didn't like, they could quickly remove him from office. _

_Each Territory gets a certain number of representatives based upon its population, which deliberate in the Union Council. The Union Council has authority to amend the Constitution, and has authority over the territories. _

_By popular vote is elected the Consul, who can check the power of the Council by vetoing bills. The consul also commands the military. _

_The main difference between the experimental United States Government and my proposed system is the elimination of the Electoral College, and of the American idea of the Senate. The idea that each state should receive equal representation simply for being a state is preposterous. _

_Other differences would include laws limiting how much money people working certain jobs could make, in order to better balance the financial gap between Senators and CEOs and the common man. My suggestions were submitted today, and the council is looking over them now. _

_October 3, 2010_

_Finally, it is finished. The Constitution is complete, the government is set in place, the Senators and Representatives are elected, and things are running smoothly. I never imagined that I'd be in this position however. _

_Out of gratitude for my instrumentality in the founding of the Union, I was somewhat jokingly nominated for the office of Consul. However, despite my passion for justice, and founding role in the the Union, I feel that there is surely someone else more suited for the duty. _

_October 20, 2010_

_By a landslide vote, I was today declared Consul. I'm not sure what to do with my newfound power, but I am determined to use it to fight injustice, and do what I set out to do in the first place... take the first fledgling steps towards a perfect world._

_December 11, 2010_

_I find myself somewhat frustrated with the results I've gotten. There is still so much crime and corruption, as if I have replaced one form of evil with another. Granted things are better than they were among the bickering capitalist governments of the 20th Century, but I still find myself dissatisfied.  
I yearn for a greater amount of influence to repair the evil that has penetrated though even my genius design. I will seek the help of the Council, and request more power. I swear one thing however, as soon as the crisis has been resolved, I will lay my power down, forever. _

_-_

Knowing that these were the words of his old friend, almost twenty years ago, Sonic shed a tear. The whole time he had been reading, he had heard the words in his mind in Shadow's voice, almost as if the obsidian hedgehog were communing with him from the dead past.

Sonic knew that this is what he would discover. Shadow had never held some lust for power in the beginning. His corruption had been a slow one, and the Regime was founded with the noblest of intentions. Not able to continue reading any more, Sonic set the book on his night stand, and tried his hardest to find sleep.

But from the unsettling things he had just read, the cerulean hero found that sweet rest was as elusive as the answers he sought, avoiding him long into the morning.

* * * * *

Sonic awoke the next day to find Dawn's bed unoccupied. Worriedly looking around, he began to panic when he couldn't find the young hedgehog anywhere. Just as he was about to leave the house to search for the boy elsewhere, the door opened, and the very prince in question walked in.

The hero's eyes widened slightly, and as he was catching his breath, the leader came through the door behind Dawn.

"Sonic, you've decided to grace us all with your presence in the land of the living," Stevie chuckled, as the hedgehog wiped some of the residual sleep out of his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Dawn couldn't wake you up. The poor boy thought you'd gone into a coma or something," Stevie explained. "He came to get me, and I told him you were just tired, and I took him to get his breakfast."

Sonic quirked an eyebrow, and looked down at Dawn, who nodded in affirmation of the ferret's story.

"Is there any particular reason why you slept in until nine?" the leader asked, a strange twinkle in his eye. "Stayed up late last night doing something... someone..."

Although Dawn didn't understand what they were referring to, Sonic visibly paled at the rebel leader's suggestion. He sputtered for a moment, as if taken aback, before finally formulating an answer.

"Actually... I couldn't get to sleep because I'd just read... a scary book..." he replied honestly.

"Is that so?" Stevie said with a smile. "Did the title of this book happen to be Julie Peterson?"

The prince didn't know the significance of Stevie's mention of the girl, but his ears perked up slightly at the mention of the name, wondering what would be said about her.

"No. As a matter a fact, it was the Black Book."

There was a long silence, as Stevie looked Sonic in the eye, his gaze both scrutinizing and grave. "How far did you read?"  
"...Not that far. Why?"

"So you haven't read Chapter 15?" Stevie said in a strangely serious tone, which was enough to cause even Dawn to start slightly.

"Should I have?" Sonic was confused at the sudden change in direction the conversation had taken, and was hungry for some sort of explanation.

"...You won't find it in there. The answer you want isn't there," Stevie finished, his lips pursing slightly. "I've read it cover to cover. You won't be happy with what you find."

"How do you know?" Sonic asked defensively.

"You can't save him. Your friend is gone." There was a tense pause, as Stevie drew a breath. "He's been replaced by the King. Remorseless, merciless, and cruel."

"I don't believe that. Somewhere within him, there is still good."

"But he has so chose to act upon that. If he were, he would lose his power. You will never turn him."

"Aren't you the one who said that just because the struggle is impossible, that does not excuse you from fighting on the right side?" Sonic countered. "I'll never give up so long as there is life in me."

"So there's no way for me to convince you... not to read it."

"No."

Dawn stared first at one, and then at the other, somewhat frightened by their tones of voice, and also confused as to what they were talking about. He'd recognized that they said something that had to do with his father, but he wasn't exactly sure what.  
In all likelihood it wasn't something good, although Dawn rationalized that his father didn't deserve to have many good things said about him.

"Very well. I've warned you, and now my part is done," Stevie sighed, a great sadness coming into his features. "Dawn, you don't need to worry about anything. You'll understand in time."

The young hedgehog nodded, although inwardly, he was thinking that this didn't help him much, to tell him that eventually he'd get it. The wizened old ferret departed without another word.

Sonic turned his eyes to the cursed book laying on his night-stand, its pages trimmed in the color of spilt blood. Black and red. Obsidian and crimson. Onyx and scarlet. The colors of death. The same colors that were painted on his friend years ago.

The very same colors that stood beside him, looking up at him in sadness and confusion. Despite the words of his superior, and the knowledge somewhere inside him that Stevie was right, Sonic felt a gnawing curiosity rise up within him, to lay bare the secrets of the King's twisted, sick mind.

Dawn could not hear his inner monologue, and so placed an assuring hand upon Sonic's back, as if to say that everything would be okay. The abandoned, unloved child who'd never experienced the world, or known anything other than a life worse than Hell itself was comforting him, as if he deserved pity.

This sentiment moved Sonic to tears. Burying his head in his hands, he pulled Dawn close to him, reveling in the feel of his quills between his fingers. For a moment, he was back with Shadow years ago, saving the world from destruction again and again.

But those old dreams could never be recovered. He had things to do in the here and now. And Dawn was part of that mission. He would not fail this young soul like he had Shadow. He would die before he would let that happen.

And as teardrops streamed down his cheeks, Sonic finally realized the beauty of the prince's name. The one who drove away darkness in an instant, parting clouds to reveal the warmth of day, always rising every morning, always shining no matter what.

Even when it could not be seen, the sun still shone, faithfully spreading life and giving even though it was never thanked, never given anything in return. No matter how hard you tried, you could never block out its luminance forever, it would persistently shine through any circumstance.

For the first time, Sonic realized that perhaps he had more to learn from Dawn than he had to teach the prince.

_Author's Notes: _It has come to my attention that some readers have made the assumption that the Minister of Justice Shadow killed in Chapter 1 was Eggman. I made several remarks to support this idea, although I never stated it outright to keep the scientists involvement in the Regime mysterious

Although I did originally intend for this to be Eggman, I have recently discovered that if this were so, it would create a rather troublesome plot hole. Therefore, I am not officially saying that the man Shadow killed was not Eggman. I apologize for any confusion created by this. In my defense, when the first chapter was written, I only intended for the book to be five chapters long, so there wasn't much of a plot for Eggman's death to contradict.

Mind you, you will not understand the significance of this for a long, long, long time, but I can assure you it does affect something. Thank you for your understanding.


	15. Crimson and Black

**Chapter 15: Crimson and Black**

The cerulean hero's brow furrowed as he stared at his younger companion. The young hedgehog was even more quiet than usual today, especially considering the rather sentimental moment they'd experienced the day before. Since Sonic had basically made it his mission to ensure the happiness of the prince, to provide him the love and attention he'd never received, he decided that he couldn't endure his distant attitude any longer.  
"Hey buddy, what's up?" he asked, sitting down atop a hill that lay just outside of the spiraling buildings of the rebel base. Dawn sat down beside him, and paused a moment before answering, as if not sure himself of his mood.

"Um, of course not," he said slowly, his lips trembling a bit at his forced answer.  
"No, something's been bothering you," Sonic insisted. "You can tell me anything Dawn. What's wrong?"

The young hedgehog in the image of the world's ultimate weapon, and current despot flinched at this accusation, but smiled slightly at the ending affirmation. His eyes clouded in a peculiar emotion, one mostly lost in today's world. Similar to sadness, but also close to fear, Sonic quickly recognized it.

Guilt.

"Well, I'd forgotten it until now," Dawn began, his eyes closing in pain. "But I was thinking about the escape from the camp, and... I remembered what I've done."

"What you've... oh, that," Sonic frowned. "You're talking about the guard you took out."

Dawn looked very upset by Sonic's blunt wording, but didn't object to it. "But I didn't mean to! I was so angry... and I don't know what came over me."

Sonic thought back to the day when they'd managed to escape from the clutches of the Regime's death camp, and how Dawn had inadvertently killed one of the guards in his fury. The boy had been stopped by the soldier, and almost as if controlled by some puppeteer, he had harnessed a familiar golden energy, and slammed it into the guard.

Dawn didn't know it, but he had displayed his first use of the signature Chaos energy that he and his father shared in the form of a Chaos Spear. A relatively simple attack as far as Shadow's abilities went, but to use such power at Dawn's age was incredible.

Sonic's eyes widened in realization of this fact. According to Shadow, he'd first harnessed the power of Chaos when he was two years older than Dawn. It could have been his emotional state that unleashed his true potential, or it could be that Dawn actually had an even greater affinity for the cosmic energy field than his tyrant father.  
The latter, of course, was highly unlikely considering the level of potency that Shadow possessed, but the very fact that it was a possibility secured Dawn's place as an invaluable asset to the Rebellion. He was pacifist by nature, but Sonic rationalized that as he aged, he would be compelled to action by the injustice of the Regime.

Sonic envisioned a desirable future. Dawn, years after his own death, lingering on in the the world due to the immortality he inherited from his father. Due to Sonic's faithful training, the now mature hedgehog leads the Rebellion, and uses his incredible power over Chaos to combat the Regime.  
Sonic saw the world in flames. He saw a battle between two figures, the only difference in their appearance a simple, almost unnoticeable difference in eye color. Sonic saw the crimson eyed hedgehog fall to the ground, defeated at last by his own flesh and blood.

Ripped to the present, Sonic was intensely aware of the gravity of the situation, the crucial importance of Dawn's involvement in the Rebellion. Of course, his vision had only been a day-dream, a possibility. But he had to have faith that if he did his best to make that dream a reality, that one day, all his hopes would be fulfilled.

"Dawn, it wasn't your fault. You were only thinking of me and Julie," Sonic said carefully, knowing the delicate nature of the situation, but still determined to keep his recent vision in sight.

"That man's blood is on my hands..." he lamented, looking down at his fingers with a scowl on his face, as if the figure of speech were literal.

"No Dawn. You saved us. What you did was an act of heroism," he explained with a frown. "That guard could've sounded the alarm. You have no idea what might have happened. But you were strong enough to make the right choice."

Dawn was silent, as if considering this.

"Now you just need to be strong enough to forgive yourself." The world was silent in response to Sonic's speech, as if baffled, or in intense expectancy. "Sometimes, that can be the hardest part of all. Forgiving others is easy. But to forgive yourself is not. Once you do that, you'll be free of your guilt."

Dawn's eyes shifted slightly, as he stared up at his mentor, their eyes locking for a moment. He said nothing, but nodded to signify that he understood. Sonic sighed under his breath, hardly able to fathom the responsibility that had been laid on his shoulders.

If his vision was to be believed, then the very fate of the Rebellion rested upon Dawn's participation in the Rebellion. If that was the case, then it was up to him to make sure that Dawn was not deterred from the path of the heroes, the impossible path of hope and freedom.

Knowing that there was always one person he could count on to be more wise and thoughtful than him, he told Dawn to follow him and began to silently started towards the house of his two tailed friend.

* * * * *

Sonic seated himself on the couch in Tails' house, as Dawn plopped down beside him. Across from them was a rather stupefied fox seated within his wheelchair, mouth hung open as if he couldn't believe his eyes. Dawn seemed slightly uncomfortable by all the weird reactions he received when he was introduced to people, but Miles quickly corrected his mistake, and simply looked down at the young hedgehog thoughtfully.

"Did you have a child with Shadow?" Miles retorted to Sonic, quietly enough that Dawn couldn't hear it. "I couldn't forget those colors in a million years."

Sonic bit his lip slightly, knowing that with all the answers his friend had given him, he deserved to know the truth about the king. "Tails... can Dawn go upstairs and play with your kids?"

"Sure. Timmy's out with a friend right now, but Megan is home. Just knock on the farthest door on the right," the genius inventor said to Dawn. The young hedgehog nodded and plodded up the stairs, getting the faint feeling in his stomach that he was about to miss out on something.

Sonic waited until he'd heard Megan's door close before he addressed his friend. "As you've guessed, the boy is Shadow's son."

"That much is obvious," Miles answered, a slight smirk present on his face.

"What I'm sure you haven't guessed is what happened to Shadow," Sonic explained slowly, hoping to break it to Tails over a period of time rather than all at once. "After the Regime took over, I lost touch with him."

"That's understandable. We ourselves lost contact until recently."

"That's true. I knew Shadow couldn't be dead. If anyone had survived, it was him," Sonic explained, his expression controlled and emotionless. "And I was right. I've met him."

"Really? Where is he now?" Tails asked, not fully comprehending that there would have to be a very, very good reason for Sonic to be in possession of Shadow's son.

"Last I heard, he was in Station Square. The Regime capital," the cerulean rebel alluded.

"Is he working undercover or something? Asked you to take care of his kid while he's deployed?" Tails guessed, a quizzical look in his eyes. He'd noticed already that Sonic was being hesitant in giving away too many details, and wanted to know why.

"Not exactly. He doesn't know I have Dawn," the hero frowned, his eyes darkening slightly. "Tails, I'm sorry... Shadow is the King."

The was a moment of apprehensive silence, as the blue eyed fox stared at Sonic, his gaze unblinking and bewildered. For a moment, he couldn't rationally process what his friend had just told him, and had to question whether he had heard right.

"The King! You mean _the _King? That can't be!" Miles shouted. "The Shadow I know would never be capable of... of the horrors of the Regime!"

Sonic blinked back droplets of water that were beginning to form in the corners of his eyes, as he answered.

"I said that too. But I've seen him Tails," he said grimly. "He's changed. All he cares about is his power now."

"So then, you abducted Dawn..."

"For his own good," Sonic finished, his voice low and level. Tails took a moment to consider this, rubbing his chin in deep thought. He still could not process in his mind the possibility that the courageous obsidian hedgehog he once knew was now the most terrible ruler on the planet.

"I see... I think I understand," he said numbly. "You're trying to give his son a chance for a normal life. What does his majesty think of that?"

"He doesn't yet know that Dawn is with me. For now, I'd like to keep it that way."

"For obvious reasons, you won't reveal his father's identity to the others," Tails surmised, glancing up at the roof as if he could see Megan and Dawn through the planks of wood.

"Yeah... something like that," Sonic sighed, as he stared off absently into the distance.

"You don't need to bear the burden alone you know," the golden vulpine added. "I'm here to help you if you like."

"I know that Tails," the azure rebel replied, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes.

The legless fox paused a moment before chuckling, and finally speaking.

"You're one of two people that still call me that. It brings back memories."

"Who's the other?" Sonic asked inquisitively, assuming that it was Knuckles.

"Stevie. I don't know how he knew that was my old nickname, I never went by it among the rebels..."

"That ferrets has ways of knowing things. But now that you mention it, I have the strangest feeling that I met him before the Regime..."

The pair sat in pondering, trying to remember if they'd ever encountered the rebel leader before.

"Must just be my imagination."

* * * * *

When Dawn knocked on Megan's door, he still was not quite over the sinking feeling he was being left out. The door cracked open, and the female fox appeared in the entryway.

"I've never seen you before. Did you come with Mr. Sonic?" she said happily, a soft smile on her face.

"Yes, I did," he responded quietly, yet quickly.

"My name's Megan. What's yours?" she asked as she motioned for him to come into her room.

"Dawn. It's not a very good name, I know," he responded sadly. She gasped at his insult to himself, her smile _almost _faded.

"What are you talking about? It's a beautiful name."

"You really think so?" he replied, as he absently glanced about her room.

"Of course. I mean what I say. I won't say it, if I don't mean it!" she stated a little bit too excitedly, as if she were quoting someone who she really admired.

Dawn seemed to disagree slightly with this philosophy. "I don't want to say anything that would hurt anyone's feelings, so I try to mostly keep quiet."

Once again, the golden-red fox gasped. "It's good to not want to hurt other people, but you need to be able to share your feelings with others."

Dawn nodded wordlessly, simultaneously agreeing with her and contradicting her advice. The boy noticed that Megan's room didn't look like the typical twelve year old girl's room. Despite being generally unknowledgeable in what a girl would like, he knew that most of the stuff she had was stuff he would like, and therefore, not very girly at all.

Dawn didn't know the word for it, but he was seeing the evidence that Megan was a very prim, proper, and polite, tomboy. She'd been a daddy's girl with no interest in dolls or tea sets. She had loved watching her father invent and tinker, and even had some machines on her shelves that looked to be of her own creation.

Slightly simpler building materials such as Legos sat in one corner, and not anywhere in the room, was there any sign of the color pink.

"I like your colors. You look really cool," she commented with a slight blush. He was a little overwhelmed. Two compliments in one conversation! It was a bit unusual to him.

"Thanks. You're fur is very pretty," he responded politely. The redness of Megan's cheeks intensified slightly.

"How sweet," she chirped. After a slight paused, she changed the topic to one slightly more comfortable. "So... you want to help me build something?"

Dawn pondered this. "Like what?"

"I don't know, just something. Whatever you want," she answered, as she indicated the blocks in the corner.

"I don't know how to use those..." Dawn admitted, a frown on his face. Megan giggled at his societal ignorance, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Then I guess you'll have to learn!"

"...Okay..." he answered slowly. Megan sat down next to the box, and removed some blocks to work with. As she built something simple, she explained to Dawn the premise behind it all, demonstrating her intellect when she even went into designing and thinking in 3-D.

The two built together for awhile, Dawn eventually getting the hang of it, and aiding her in their construction of a helicopter. They didn't get the chance to finish however, as they were interrupted by Sonic walking into the room.

"You ready to go buddy?"

"But Mr. Sonic, me and Dawnie are almost done with our helicopter," she protested. The young hedgehog clearly looked uncomfortable at the use of this nickname. "Right Dawnie?"

"Um... yeah," he said as a crimson heat teased his cheeks.

His cerulean guardian smirked at the spectacle, his eyes boring into Dawn's smugly. "Alright. Come down when you're done buddy. But don't dilly dally."

Sonic returned downstairs with a wink, which Dawn wasn't exactly sure how to interpret. The rest of the time passed in a dream, as the words that more or less continuously burst forth from Megan's lips became meaningless to the dark hedgehog. He saw her scarlet lips moving up and down, but he couldn't understand anything.

As they continued working, she would occasionally stop and look at him, cocking her head to the side and blinking at him as if she expected some kind of response. Once he would realize this, Dawn would just stutter out a 'yeah', or 'uh huh', to which Megan would giggle and continue her nonstop talking.

Finally, the creation was finished. It was rather magnificent considering that a couple of twelve year olds had constructed it in less than an hour. As Dawn stood up to leave, Megan graced the boy with a rather crushing hug, shocking him.

"Bye Dawnie."

When the boy finally found his wits, he made a semi-intelligent response. "Goodbye."

With that, the black and red hedgehog stormed away, blush raging on his cheeks, as Megan giggled.

* * * * *

After their encounter with the Prowers, Sonic had teased Dawn about his interaction with Megan, much to the young hedgehog's irritation. The poor boy hadn't experienced churning in his gut this strong since he'd first become infatuated with Julie. Of course, Sonic wasn't aware of this fact, but even he wasn't ignorant enough to misinterpret the interlude between the two pre-teens.

Dawn was quickly becoming frustrated with the blue hedgehog's teasing, when the opportunity arose to depart from his company and spend time with Julie he quickly took it. Sonic looked after him as he left, wondering if perhaps he'd taken his hobby too far. Rationalizing that spending time with Julie would make him feel better, and give him someone to hold a serious discussion with if he wanted to.

After all, the number one rule of men is that two guys cannot hold a serious conversation about girls. It is completely fine for a guy to seek the advice and council of another female, but the rule states that men are only allowed to tease and harass each other. The sooner Dawn learned that the better.

Sonic figured he'd take this opportunity while Dawn wasn't with him to see Knuckles, and continue their previous conversation... and bring up something he'd been wondering about for awhile.

Whatever had happened to the Master Emerald?

Knuckles was not particularly pleased to see Sonic, considering the nature of their conversation a few days prior, but the cerulean hero figured that he could tolerate the echidna's irritating stubbornness if he knew that the most powerful source of energy on the planet was not in Shadow's hands.

"What are you doing here Sonic?" the guardian sneered.

"I don't have time for your charming personality Knuckles. I have a question for you, and I want an answer," the hero demanded, his patience with the echidna worn thin.

"No need to be rude," he smirked. "Get on with it so you can get out."

Sonic blinked at his direct and icy response, before continuing. "When we made the attack on Roujin, you tried to recover the Master Emerald. Did you get it?"

Knuckles looked at Sonic with an emotionless stare, blank and dead eyes that held neither hatred nor regard. "It's in the Rebellion's vault."

Sonic felt a flood of relief knowing that they had secured this power source, and his mind jumping with possible ways to harness it to combat the Regime.

"We could use it. You and me, we could gather the Chaos Emeralds, and then use our Hyper Forms. We could destroy the Regime!" he exclaimed.

Knuckles surveyed him for a moment, as if studying a strange and exotic animal, or perhaps a madman ranting about impossibilities. "I already thought of that. I asked the Master Emerald to reveal the location of the Chaos Emeralds to me."

"And?" he asked expectantly.

"It wouldn't respond. I don't understand, before I could easily control it. I could use it to locate the emeralds, or even see short distances into the future," he explained. "Imagine the power the Rebellion would hold if I could tap into that. But for some reason, the gem has more or less ignored me."

"There must be an explanation!" Sonic cried, forgetting his previous anger at the crimson guardian.

"You're right. But until I figure out what that is, we'll get nowhere. For now we must assume that we'll never be able to use it, but that we must keep it from Shadow at all costs," Knuckles stated grimly, his lips twisted into a wry frown. "Meanwhile, I'll continue to see if I can find an answer of some kind."

Sonic sat in quiet consideration for awhile, his brow furrowed and his lips pursed. He glanced at Knuckles, but the echidna was staring absently at the floor, as if lost deep in thought. Slowly rising to his feet, the former hero gave a final nod, and departed from the guardian's quarters.

* * * * *

Great steel doors lurched to the side, opening to reveal a seemingly endless expanse. Within the massive grey box stood ranks and ranks of stone faced soldiers, each with eyes emotionless and devoid of feeling.

As their superior strode by, each and every one stood a little straighter, as their eyes widened almost microscopically. Thran stood before them in all his glory, his uniform covered in ribbons and medals earned in a war waged against freedom.

"Major, are all preparations complete?" Thran said in a low, gravelly voice.

"All weapons are online and ready for the demonstration General."

"Good... his majesty will be arriving any minute now," he said levelly, as he surveyed the king's new stronghold one last time. It was truly a masterpiece of engineering, walls scaling so high that they seemed to never end, every piece forged of thick steel. Within every corner of every hallway was a security camera, and the fortress was filled with automated turrets, and housed by a small army.

A crackle came into the air as a loudspeaker bellowed forth a harsh command.

_"The King has arrived. All personnel come to attention!" _it ordered, and even the mighty Thran complied. The despot marched through the towering gateway, a crimson cape trailing behind him.

Upon his brow sat a spiked crown, with a ruby inlaid into the largest spire. The king looked as menacing as ever, but to their relief he already seemed pleased with his new instrument of terror. Thran immediately marched to greet him, and saluted him.

"General. As efficient as ever I see," he remarked, but his compliment didn't seem to even phase the general.

"I've done only what was required of me, my Lord. Would you like for me to give you a tour of your new fortress?"

"Yes, I would like that," his icy voice rang. "Let us witness my new base's power, while we discuss our plans."

Thran noted that the king had referred to them as _their _plans and not _his _plans. "Indeed, your grace. As you can see, I've already had the fortress garrisoned with your finest troops."

"How thorough. My last stronghold was also supposedly garrisoned by my best troops."

"Ah, but your excellency, your new base has the capacity to house over fifteen thousand soldiers just in the structure itself," Thran explained. "It also contains storage areas for planes, tanks, artillery, and enough ammunition and weapons of mass destruction to wage a small war.

"It is, in a sense, a self contained military base inside a single, massive structure. On the outer walls, automated turrets and high powered cannons protect the base, and its walls are thick and composed of the strongest material.

"As you ordered, we have spared no expense. The base has missile silos built into it, so that it can effectively conduct a nuclear strike without relaying orders. Planes and tanks can quickly and easily be deployed from it, and underneath the base is a sprawling labyrinth that would allow your majesty to escape even in the most dire circumstances."

"Fascinating. I see that you mean to revolutionize base construction," Shadow commented, his expression still rather blank. But despite his rather dull manner, he was indeed impressed.

"But that's not all sire. The entire base is under complete and total surveillance, and you will have personal control over each individual camera. It would be impossible to sneak into the place. In addition, the walls are coated in a highly regenerative force field that protects it from damage.

"The only way to penetrate the walls is to either inflict damage equivalent to a half megaton bomb in a concentrated area of a hundred square feet, or to inflict damage more quickly than the shield can regenerate, which I assure you, is no easy task."

"I can see the Rebellion will have a hard time with this. But I know Stephen. He's just too damned creative. What are your backup plans?"

"Your majesty's quarters contains an escape pod that requires your fingerprint to use, so that no-one else may use it. The base is totally self sufficient for water, electricity, and contains enough food to last for six months without any additional supplies. A siege would be impossible even if they were to destroy all the outside cannons."

"Excellent. I can see you've thought of everything General Thran," he grinned devilishly, like a demonic child who's just received a new plaything. "I'm glad I put you in charge."

"My only wish is to serve you, my king."

"And as I promised, you will be rewarded..." he drawled. A momentous pause filled the air, as the dictator and his lackey stopped walking, having reached the Throne Room.

"General Thran, as my most loyal servant, I now appoint to you, the rank of Grand Marshal, supreme commander over all Regime forces, needing only answer to myself."

Thran bowed to one knee, as the king reached behind his throne, and retrieved an ornate, gold encrusted sword. Tapping it once on both of the former general's shoulders, he gave Thran the sword.

"Now, cut open your hand, and swear on your blood that you are mine forever." Thran gripped the sword in his calloused fingers, his eyes boring into it. Ceremoniously, he ground it deep into his palm, the blade slicing into his flesh. A stream of liquid crimson coursed down the steel, and onto the golden hilt, dripping to the floor in an unsteady rhythm.

"I swear by my blood, that I will serve you forever, my king."

Shadow's fiery orbs locked onto Thran's empty, pale ones for a moment, and then, he smirked. "Good. Now, on with the plan to ensnare the Rebellion. I am impressed with the fortress you have created. What do you call it?"

A hint of a smile appeared on Thran's face. It wasn't over the top or expressive, the left side of his lips simply turned up a hair. The next moment, it was gone. "The code-name was given to it by one of the designers. They called it _Hangar 18_," the marshal eyed the king for a moment before continuing. "I believe they were referring to the number of plane hangars."

"Hmm... in any case, the place will do nicely. However, you of all people should know that I like to over-prepare. The Rebellion's defeat must be complete and decisive."

"Yes my Lord."

"I want to find a relic that will give me more power to command. Not worldly power, but a greater degree of control over the Chaos Force. Of course, the Rebellion stole the Master Emerald."

Thran nodded, before answering the question that hadn't been asked. "No word on the seven Chaos sire."

"Well, then that leaves me no choice. Marshal, for your next assignment, I want you to research something for me, and find it," the despot couldn't help but let out a deranged chuckle in anticipation of his plot.

"What is it your greatness?"

"Seek a certain artifact known as the Scepter of Darkness. When you find out where it is, return to me at once, and I will go and personally oversee its recovery."

"It shall be done," Thran echoed, before turning to carry out his assignment. Shadow sat down in his great stone throne, and stared down at the discarded sword, blood tainting its silvery blade.

He pressed a button on his armrest, and a giant screen lowered from the ceiling, revealing hundreds of security camera feeds showing erect, emotionless soldiers. The guards might as well have been made of steel as well. With his next prize, the Scepter of Darkness, he could rule as the King of Darkness, and finally crush the Rebellion once and for all.

The Master Emerald had never been very responsive, but one thing he had managed to get out of it was his lost memories of Soleanna. The emerald was timeless just like Solaris, so it even had alternate histories and erased futures stored within it. He discovered that although the god of time had been defeated, it had not been erased completely as they thought.

Rather, the two separate entities that comprised Solaris were sealed within the Scepter of Darkness. However, before he had managed to discover the location of the mighty relic, the emerald had mysteriously stopped responding no matter what he did.

This unexplained lack of cooperation that suddenly foiled his efforts had made him furious, and now that the gem had been stolen back by Knuckles, he wouldn't be able to find out what the cause was.

But it didn't matter now. Soon, he would bring back a ghost from the past, thought gone, to change the future, and dominate the world. All that remained then was to draw the rebels into his trap.


	16. Investigation

**Chapter 16: Investigation**

Screams echoed throughout winding metal corridors as the sounds of gunshots filled the air. The oxygen within the Regime's compound tasted artificial and metallic, as if it had been processed by some giant machine, filtered and sterilized, somehow stained with the taint of steel and fire, like everything natural and earthly had been removed.

The walls, elevated ceiling and floors were all cold, heartless steel, which bent and conformed as bullets struck it, reverberations from the impacts ringing throughout the hallways like the tolling of a grim, iron bell. Crimson wetness splattered onto one of the walls, a Regime trooper's skull rupturing as it was pierced by a succession of deadly projectiles, his final scream tearing at the air even as the darkness consumed his consciousness.

The rebels had not planned on attracting the Regime's attention in their excursion, but as usual, things had not gone quite as planned. Demonstrating the conflict between the two relentless opponents, bullets and grenades hurtled down the hallways, rebel operatives and Regime soldiers ducking in and out of rooms like phantom stalkers to find cover and breathe for a moment, or confront their opponents with merciless aggression.

One room was filled with a paralyzing nerve gas, as the soldiers wearing the emotionless gas masks that mimicked skulls of death stormed in, finishing off any survivors with a brutal deluge of lead that painted the floor the color of fire. The rebels were badly outnumbered, and the fact that the Regime soldiers were on the defensive gave them a considerable disadvantage.

And yet they fought on, their struggle preserved by nothing more than their love of freedom and their indomitable will. Nathan wiped a droplet of sweat from his brow, his sides shuddering spasmodically with each gasp that escaped his lungs. Ducking around a corner, he grit his teeth and fired a trio of bullets, cutting down enemy soldiers with each and every round spent.

A few other rebels rallied behind him, frantically following his orders to combat the sleepless drones that were closing in on every side, mechanical terrors in human form. By now, the floor of the compound was practically littered in brassy bullet casings. Lifeless forms from both factions lay slumped and unmoving against the walls and ground, their hands loosely clutching onto their weapons in a final futile attempt to preserve their existence.

The massive black rebel squinted an incendiary grenade ignited, flashing brilliantly before covering several of the operatives in flames, a momentary shower of White Phosphorus and desperate screaming the eulogy that announced the freedom fighters' deaths.

A symphony of gunshots and cries of desperation filled the air, a myriad of death and destruction that accompanied the colors of warfare: the black steel of a gun, the silver of bullets whizzing past, barely missing only to kill another, the scarlet of human demise, and the flames that left charred, writhing forms.

But Nathan had been desensitized to this kind of slaughter, it had been his life as long as he could remember. Amidst the rampant death on both sides, he was emotionally detached, having heard the noise of battle so frequently his brain filtered it out. He was unfaltering in the face of his comrades falling at his side, surging from cover to cover, and decimating ranks of Regime troopers.

He was a man on a mission, he would achieve his objective or die trying. The powerful muscles of his right arm tensed as he plunged his machete through a soldier's neck, earning a sloshing spray of blood. Pulling the blade out the next moment, he continued on, gunning down the cannon fodder of the Regime as if they were not human beings, but stalks of wheat waiting for the Grim Reaper to harvest.

Eyes as white as ivory widened as a grenade flew in his direction, streaking through the air to land with a thud directly in front of him. To the rebel's relief, the projectile did not explode, but his celebration was only momentary, as the metallic orb began releasing a venomous green gas that he guessed wasn't beneficial to the human body.

Nathan quickly ducked into a side room, hurriedly slamming a metal door behind him to block out the poison gas. He winced as he heard one of his comrades coughing and sputtering in the hallway, slamming his fists against the door and begging for entry. The ebony rebel knew that to open the door and allow his friend entry would mean his death, and although a piece of his heart shattered, he remained firm, pressing his back against the steel gateway that separated between life and death until the sound of the frantic cries had died.

He listened for a moment, while trying to subdue his panting. The click of boots outside revealed that Regime soldiers were inspecting the hallways, but the lack of gunshots indicated that there was a lull in the fighting.

As he calmed his breathing, he relaxed slightly. Looking around the room, he realized he had inadvertently reached his objective, by pure, blind luck.

They had been attempting to reach the installation's outer computer terminal, but had been so distracted by their fire-fight with the Regime's soldiers that they'd had no idea how close they were. But now, he was here, with the perfect opportunity to complete their mission. That is, if the troopers outside didn't come storming in at the next moment, cutting off his chance.

Urgency gave his movements stealth, as he approached the computer screen at the other end of the room. Chairs abandoned in the confusion sat empty, directly in front of control consoles and keyboards connected to countless monitors and screens, wires running over the floors and walls like the blood vessels of some mechanized organism.

"Couldn't hurt to wreak some havoc while I'm at it," he remarked, as he sat down at the control pad linked to the security footage feed. Typing in a command, he ceremoniously pressed the enter key, activating his instruction chain within the computer.

The screen displaying the security feed from the base's cameras flickered and died, static replacing what had been black and white images of endless hallways and perfectly organized rooms. Nathan nodded in approval at his work, a frantic animal look in his eyes, knowing that there was a task he had to complete, and not much time left to do it.

He turned to another console, typing as quickly as his massive fingers would allow, his eyes hungrily scanning the screen as he scrolled over the information being displayed. His emotion his eyes held told that he had found what he was looking for, and the black rebel reached into his pocket after only a moment of looking over the documents he'd accessed.

Retrieving a small black rectangular object, he connected it to the computer console, quickly downloading the files he'd accessed into the tiny memory chip. Nathan jerked his head over his shoulder when he heard a loud clash in the hallway outside, fearing that the soldiers had found him.

Some gunshots sounded from another room, quelling his fears for now. The documents were finished downloading, and the computer released a high pitched beep to alert him of this. The rebel then accessed a program within the internal memory of the attached chip, which began copying different files back to the Regime mainframe in return.

"Heh. This specially designed virus should give 'em Hell for awhile," Nathan remarked, the infected files multiplying and spreading throughout the computer even as they downloaded into it. Within seconds, the original files were all downloaded, and the exponential spread of the virus throughout the mainframe began.

Nathan triumphantly removed the external memory chip, stuffing it in his pocket and preparing to come out into the hallway. He stopped and listened a minute at the doorway, to be sure no soldiers were directly outside.

The rebel cracked the door open, pushing against the corpse of the comrade he'd denied entry to the unaffected air of the computer room when the Regime had employed poison gas earlier. Seeing nothing directly outside, he stole out into the hallway, darting across to another room like a greased obsidian lightning bolt.

Nothing was within this room but the shattered bodies of several Regime soldiers, and the rebels they had exterminated. Nathan squinted when he saw them, each one he had known, if not personally then professionally. It didn't matter if the rebels killed ten soldiers for each one of them, they still couldn't win.

If they could kill a hundred soldiers a piece, would they then triumph? Perhaps a thousand. But such feats were impossible. In a battle of sheer strength, the Regime had every weapon at its disposal but the motivating force of the rebellion - spirit.

There was no way the rebels could produce weapons such as incendiary grenades or lasers that rained death from the skies like screaming obsidian lightning bolts. This was the only way they could win. Sabotage and deception, sneaking about like rats on the run from an army of exterminators, with their poison gasses.

He breathed a long sigh, and peaked out the doorway to make sure the coast was still clear. Seeing nothing, he burst forth, gun at the ready, eyes snapping about to catch even the smallest disturbance.

As he'd thought, there was nothing, so he retrieved his com-link, breathing into the mic with a low voice to try to regroup with any survivors. "Delta Squad, come in. We have lift-off. Confirm your status, over."

Nathan listened quietly for a moment, as he stalked down the corridors. The only sound he heard was the mocking silence of the empty hallways, a dead whisper of nothingness. A moment of silence, as if to commemorate the dead, interrupted by a ringing gunshot.

The black rebel felt a bullet dig into his shoulder, sending a spasm of white hot pain shooting throughout his body. Clenching his teeth, he turned to face the soldier who'd shot at him, weapon at the ready.

His eyes widened at the sight he was faced with. Standing at the other end of the hallway, with a pistol raised into the air, was a massive, hulking figure. It's body was covered in combat armor, and several weapons were strapped to its form. A soulless, metallic mask was slid over the creature's face, with shimmering red orbs that stared at him like electronic, emotionless eyes.

He'd heard of these particular soldiers before. Genetically altered, physically enhanced super soldiers named Elites. He'd never faced one up close before, but he did know that most ever rebel who did never lived to tell of it.

Slowly, almost ceremoniously, the inhuman Elite holstered its pistol, its gaze still focussed on him. Nathan realized that the shot fired at him hadn't even been intended to kill him, it had been intended to get his attention so the Elite could toy with him, face him outright.

A thick, muscled arm plated in flexible armor reached over the Elite's shoulder, grasping onto its larger weapon and slowly aiming it at the rebel. His eyes widened as the two opponents stared each other down.

* * * * *

Nathan had to limp back to base badly wounded, having fled after the Elite had inflicted a major wound. He was the only one to return... the rest had been slaughtered by Regime brutality. And even he, the mighty second in command, barely escaped with the critical information it had been their mission to retrieve.

No sooner had he returned than he was whisked away to the medical center, and the mini drive he'd used to store the files downloaded from the Regime network was snatched up by the Rebellion strategists, each of them anxious to see what lurked within.

Stevie refused to let anyone even look at the files until he'd made certain that his friend and understudy was fine. He stayed with the massive black rebel for several hours, listening intently to the account of his battle with the massive Elite.

The creature had employed some kind of massive rifle that shot razor sharp metal projectiles... and he'd nearly been speared through the heart with it. The steel spire had blown a chunk out of his shoulder, and he'd lost a massive quantity of blood.

But such was the price of the critical information he'd retrieved. According to the doctors, it would take at least a few weeks before he'd be able to go out to battle again. Despite Nathan's protesting, swearing, and pouting, Stevie insisted he get his rest like a good boy, and that he'd take care of the files on the drive.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he called a meeting to discuss its contents. Documents were uploaded onto a computer and projected from a display screen so that the entire group of rebel leaders could see the information held within.

What Nathan had managed to steal were critical files detailing the Regime's new fortress... the invincible palace Stevie had first heard about from Dawn. The data contained various information, including blue prints and maps.

The largest point of discussion at this point was what sort of action should be taken. After all, they'd never attacked a fortress this big before... it was at least four times the size of Roujin, and that had been their largest attack to date.

There was also the problem of the energy shield. There was simply no way they could inflict enough damage to bring it down and sneak in. Fighting the garrison would be suicide, and the only true prize of the fortress was Shadow himself.

There was an incredible risk... but if they could succeed, the Regime would never hold its own again... everyone around the world would know that they could be defeated... within every nation and people there would be revolution, and the world would slip from their fingers like dry sand.

Many of the rebels thought the King to have been killed in their attack on the Death Camp, but the construction of this new, more powerful palace certainly contradicted that. He had survived three shotgun shells to the head at point blank range, the King certainly gave the appearance of being invincible.

But it was mere logic to realize that nothing is indestructible. There had to be some way to destroy the King. Even if they had to rip his atoms apart one by one, they knew they had to find a way. But by this point, it had become apparent that guns wouldn't do against the dictator.

Clearly, more information was needed on the formidable new stronghold the Regime had constructed if an attack was to be planned. It was decided among the group that they would send a recon team to probe the fortress for any weaknesses... try to find a way in.

An action before they knew what they were getting themselves into was simply too risky. Just as Shadow, there was no way the fortress was indestructible, but they would need to be sure of what strategies to use before they marched to the slaughter.

* * * * *

Shadow sat on his throne and grinned. His eyes flicked to the array of television screens hanging from his roof, the burning orbs flicking from one to the next, following a form moving through the hallways with an eerie diligence.

He adjusted his crown, making sure it wasn't lopsided, before he returned to his obsession. After all, if he'd had this system before, Dawn may not have been kidnapped by the rebellion... he may have had peace of mind enough that he could sleep at night.

The obsidian dictator did consider it rather disturbing that the Rebellion had not yet sent him any kind of message requesting a ransom of some kind. That was a rather integral part of his plan, he would lure them into their own destruction and secure the return of his son.

It would probably take him months to reverse the affects of the poisonous lies the rebels were likely telling his son at that moment, that he was some kind of deranged monster, intent on the misery of others.

That was far from the truth. He only wanted what was best. He had founded the Regime in order to save society from itself. The constant expansion of the population and the economy would eventually use up all the Earth's resources, resulting in the destruction of all life on the planet.

The Regime was a way of achieving homeostasis within the world. By ensuring the economy and the population never grew through strictly enforced communist procedures and Death Camps designed to rid the world of undesirables and political enemies, they could allow the Earth to recover from years of abuse.

Science would be frozen. Progress would be eliminated. Their goal was to convince everyone in the world that their situation could never be improved. "The grass is always greener on the other side." His goal was to get them to ignore the other side, to save the energy of trying to go there.

If people were not allowed to create, to experiment, they would become content with their dull lives, and order could be established. Was that such a horrible thing to hope for, for the continued existence of the status quo, things never getting any better, never any worse?

Did it make him a monster that he wanted to strip away everyone's freedoms and rights until they were emotionless robots that simply performed their duties as they always had, never happy, never sad?

He would be their eternal dictator, immortal order that reigned until the Earth itself was consumed by the Sun's supernova in millions of years. But they could find a way to prevent that in that amount of time, and life would continue as always.

Was this what defined his madness? Or was it something more? Perhaps it was this nagging feeling in the back of his mind that were Maria alive today, she would hate what he was doing. But that was what the Regime was. People don't know what they want, so he would tell them. Maria's beliefs were irrelevant, the Regime was founded on the principles behind those beliefs.

At least, that's what he told himself. But as he received the report of the rebel attack on one of their outlying bases, and the virus currently spreading through their computer network, he sat back in his throne, and swore once again to destroy liberty, to destroy hope for change and for improvement.

It was what was for the best. He and he alone knew what the world needed, and he would be the one to judge. All that remained now was the condemn the guilty. He would lure them into his net, and then ensnare them, crushing the Rebellion with a wrath unfathomable in their most terrible of nightmares.


	17. ANNOUNCEMENT!

**Announcement! - For Any Who Still Subscribe to This Story**

I hate to disappoint any of you who still subscribe to this story and may have jumped or, God forbid, had a mini heart palpitation at the prospect of an update to AHS. I've been meaning to make this announcement for quite some time, but it's taken me awhile to get back into this account. It's been so long since I closed up shop, I use completely different passwords and emails now. XD Rest assured, I have access to the account again, and so now I am bringing you all this announcement.

I have some good news, and some bad news. I'll start with the bad news: The Radman account and this story are **never **coming back to be updated. I'm sorry if this disappoints you, and believe me when I say that I have the utmost appreciation for all of the praise, inspiration, and motivation I have received over the years from you, my fans. I wouldn't be where I am today if it weren't for all of you pushing me forward, driving me to better myself all the time. And so I thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

The good news is that I haven't stopped writing. Things are a little slower now that I'm older and "real life" interferes more often, so I can't pump out 5,000 words a week like I used to, but rest assured that I'm not dead, and I'm not done writing. What I want you to know is that AHS... is not... _entirely _gone. I still remember this story, and I still remember all of you fans. And so, if any of you are interested, I am putting serious thought towards revitalizing this story, the first of my truly inspired works, in the form of a piece of original fiction. What this means is that it would lack any amount of ties or allusion to the Sonic series or characters, but that it would be a REAL book. I'm currently in the process of working out additional details and ideas for a rewrite which will involve new interpretations of all of my best ideas.

But I want to invite **YOU **to be a part of this. I know what ideas I liked best and what I'm planning on keeping, but I haven't forgotten what I said earlier about how you, the fans, were always what made me as good as I was. So I want to hear from all of you about what your favorite parts, places, characters, ideas, etc were from the story. Review, PM, do whatever you like. If you contact me, I will most likely give you my personal email address, and allow you to advise me on the plot, characters, and other elements of the long awaited rewrite to All Hail Shadow. And I encourage all of you to get the book once I'm finished! I will offer it for FREE on Amazon Kindle and iBooks, as well as publishing it on various sites on the internet. If you contact me, I can give you details which will allow you to read and follow this remake.

Again, thank you all for your tireless support. I look forward to hearing from you.

~Radman

PS - I know it's technically against the rules to have an entire chapter be Author's Notes, and it's also against the rules to have a chapter be one sentence long. Therefore, I bring you this short, obligatory paragraph which enables this "chapter" to abide by FFN rules.

* * *

Sonic looked up. He saw a bird.

THE END. ;P

(My best work ever. XD)


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